24 April 2004

(35) Conversation with a Crow




Lately I have been talking to crows. My ears are always alert
for the voice of a crow as I walk now, and they notice me and
try to get my attention. Today there was a crowd of them, a
whole bunch of them, talking in turn ­ large black warning
signs, one would start and his brother would take up the cry.
Call it a murder, but I try to forgive.

"Watch it," they call. "Watch your step, watch your
feet, watch for cracks. The world is less as it seems than
it ever was. The world is less as it is than anyone knows."
This is what the crows say. This is what the crows realize.

When I wear a scarf around my mouth for a mountain
winter, when noon turns the rock to desert, crows follow
and speak to me. They leave their wing feathers in my
mailbox and they leave their footprints on my floor.
"Watch out, watch all, the world is less as it is than
anyone knows." This is what the crows say. This is
what the crows know.



Unknown, © 2003

FEED BURNER