Crow’s Song

1.
Ancestor crow hear me:
fire of black crow wing,
dragonfly.
What wonderfulness is life,
that I and thou in each others’ presence
pick hungrily at dead animals
in needle pines, in the forest of the city
Soaring with our altercrows
over freeways to the sand dunes
Singing our rhythmic song.

2.
Gathering forces we glide,
black crowfeather carries us
on air and prayer.
Maybe we will espy some matters delicious:
dead flesh soft and fragrant
colonels of corn naked in the furrows
some water at somewaters edge.
Easy pickings.
Lovely.

3.
My father was crow and my mother was too
all my sisters and brothers
and, of course, me and you
all our entire nation
vast jet black infestation
we must wed midst our kin
meet our needs from within.

4.
In the airwaves we flutter
dipsy doodle and mutter
this is all that we know
as we go to and fro
there is nothing to strive towards
all we’re given are rewards
simple foods, airs, and waters
and the love of our daughters.

5.
I love to eat me grasshoppers.

6.
In large flocks we gather,
the cawing of our species fills the air.
Our movements ponderous and gracious
we hide in tall grasses
from treetops we call,
the fat cat, the red winged, the human.
Still we multiply.

7.
Time is to flight as shoreline is to sea
Altercrow calls from branch site
Bouncing over stones I press air beneath me
Working hard my wings I lift off
The currents carry me to tall tree.
I am clear and invisible.
Hey you.  Caw.

brtaub – 1978