What’s your secret, Crow?
I’ve been trying to paint you…
blue-black like the sky,
Looking up, I bow
as your eyes start to appear,
the gas hob hissing.
“I want to write because I find expression of my thoughts and emotions releasing and revealing”
Hooded crow (Corvus cornix) in flight
… and also because it takes me to an unknown path.
When I go down that path,
I hear a crow and I feel safe,
like I have a life long friend by my side.
I might sometimes write my way to Africa,
sometimes only down the road,
but it always takes me somewhere safe, and clear.
I connect with my old friend soul,
together we detangle the yarn of life.
The happy times, the grieving times,
the times when I feel lost and alone, unloved
and the times when I feel life is the most precious gift.
I heal my relationship with others, and with myself.
I learn to trust, others and myself.
I reflect, self-reflect
Doubt and self-doubt…
And I always feel better for it.
“Live your life as an experiment” – Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche.
(photo: Thom Rimmer)
i don’t think I need one more invitation
i think i’m pretty sure,
i saw that film in slow motion.
i think too much, I know
but i think i saw that person blinks.
a coffee table, what a great place
to meet and eat noodles.
what about hysterical societies?
not where, but are they still going?
i think i met one of them once,
queueing in a shop.
i couldnt tell if he was laughing or crying
i only saw his jaw drop,
then a heavy silence fell,
it sounded like a cast-iron skillet
whacking someone on the back of the head.
i wish i had seen a coyote that day,
but i didn’t.
i heard a crow though
i guess that’s a good sign too…
thank you for reading this.
it feels like cotton balls in between my toes
and hot stones on my back.