Crow’s Flight

april14 009

For those looking for inspiration in a Christmas story – that is not necessarily in this blog…  Although there is definitely optimism here.

I think you will find that story in good spirit that good Samaritans share at this time of year.  It is wonderful when people can give and receive gifts of love in day to day life.  Sometimes this tradition is lost in shopping malls and parking stalls, as I have seen other bloggers discussing.  What percentage of the kids know the story behind Christmas?  Do any of us today really get it?  I hope so.  I hope we have a story that is evolved to be interpreted with benefit for everyone that can be touched by it.

I really wrote this as part of the day to day quest that many of us are on.  Chasing dreams – like dreams of flying.  Building plans.  I guess this is more of a New Year’s poem.

Finding the Light like a Crow’s Flight

I live in the shadow of my own dream,

For days and days I climb over mounds of

Buried plans, mud-sliding under my feet,

A giant excavator is pouring,

Obstacles of truth, and my boot gets stuck,

Just like a child at play, I leave the boot,

Now wallowing in piles of ideas,

And so filthy, I cannot go to school,

A mess, marked by the mire of the shadows,

Going back to retrieve my sure-footing,

What would the classmates say or the teachers?

‘Just go home son, and come back tomorrow’,

This is not a choice for me now, adult,

Covered in half-baked mud and crud, I rise,

Can you question the state of the worker?

Fresh from the job, in constant toil, no rest,

Make no assumptions with all I have seen,

I climb to the top of the slope, grabbing

The roots of trees hanging where mud erodes,

Scrambling for the light of my goals and dreams,

My fingernails thick with dirt, I climb up,

And soon lay past the treacherous incline,

Panting, gasping, sweaty, covered in grime,

Sit up:  look for the success of such steps,

A full forest shields the light I look for,

Dense brush and cedar, pine scraping the sky,

The sun sets far beyond tangled forests,

I can hear the echo of my own hopes,

Hours and hours I listen and wait,

The fierce scolding of a crow reaches me,

It is getting late – I will take no chance,

The dark forest may go on endlessly,

I wait for the moon to tell the future,

I have been wrong: tomorrow does not end,

I sleep in the wilderness with dark dreams,

In the morning, the sun rises again,

Steam follows, orange, and magenta skies,

There are no shadows on my field of thoughts,

I am free to search the forest for truth,

Even to look far for the other side,

Today I will reach down to the wet earth,

Try to make sense of it all, and build plans,

What will I do with the light and the night?

Who will be the guide: the sun, moon or stars?

Is this path reflection – like in the moon?

As the truth builds mountains: can we climb through?

Or climb over, respected for the work,

We must make our decisions wise each day,

Dreams hold clear truth, following the crow’s flight


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