The Secret Life of Crows



Another Monday

& so begins the week

A day no different from any other day

Beautiful… Unique.


The sparkling lights of dawn enshroud the silver morn

They bring forth majesty, a golden tapestry of clouds that drift

They offer up a mystery

A truth to seek

A gift


A solitary bird salutes the sky

It somehow seems connected to the tree

Perhaps a mere illusion of the eye

Perhaps just symmetry


But underneath this dappled sun

Their natures’ dual, become as one

The withered branches nest as shadows light deceives

For feathers black as night give flight to barren leaves


What once was dead… now breathes!


I wonder what a person ever really knows

About the secret life of crows




This world is glorious in its beauty. Nothing is ordinary. If you think I’m wrong you’re just not looking hard enough. Yes, I know. It’s not a crow in the picture… it’s a magpie. but sometimes magic doesn’t need to be explained. sometimes a bit of mystery & innocence is the magic. sometimes we need to make magic out of nothing. sometimes the mere illusion of hope is the key that brings us back to life. sometimes all we need to do is believe. for if a dead tree can have life, leaves & a heart that sings. & a lone bird & a sunrise can give our imagination wings. then a mind in full flight can do wondrous things!  




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