I close my eyes and listen to the sounds that crows make,
serious and playful, graveling and intense;
sounds that come from a primordial place.
I listen to the silence between their calls.
I try to make sense of their world
as I sit at the edge of my bed
just before the sun rises.
One crow caws five times,
waits for a response and within seconds
another crow echoes out,
a ripple in a vast pool of water
as hundreds of crows cry all at once
like a symphony in the trees.
Speaking a language that they only know
before they start their daily routine,
warning of predators, locations of food,
where they could find a stable vine
to rest upon.
When my friends scatter from the trees,
my morning meditation ends.
Forever to be mindful of the crow.
There is a tree across the pond where we are now and every morning there are at least 7 crows. All talking just like the ones you listen to. Nice post.
Sweet. Thanks, Anne.
Thank you, LA
I think if we listen very closely, we can make out what they’re saying.
Yes, to listen closely is the key, not only to a crow, but to all living things. Thanks, Bojana.
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
Thank you. 🙂🙂
Theirs is a different world…
Perhaps much better organized and with better communication skills, too. 🙂🙏🏻
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
Glad you liked!!
sometimes they’re so loud in the morning, that’s all we can hear!
I know. It wakes you up to the world.
When the crows gather with loud chatter on the branches of a tree behind our apartment complex, I know that a storm is on its way.
Thanks for the follow 🙂
Yes. They give a more accurate weather report than the people on TV
This is beautiful, Mark! I love listening to the birds as well. Amazing. Thank You and Cheers!!! 🙂
You’re welcome and Cheers as well.