I am crow.

Crow I see.

Black, my colour for Swan to greet.

I am swan. With Crow I see.

White is my colour, for tears to weep

in a river-weed tangle around my beak.

I am the river. With Swan I hold

secrets, to carry and tell to the sea,

where the song of the deep will know the truth,

seen in the eyes of peacock, blue.

I am peacock, a rainbow frieze

of beauty and love and broken dreams.

With phoenix I walk to the setting sun,

the night will soon be overcome.

I am Phoenix. In flames I tread.

From ashes I rise with a golden egg.

Crow wants to know what I can see.

I am Crow. Crow is me.

2 thoughts on “Crow

  1. This is beautiful….and crisp, like the quick turn of a crow’s neck as it looks down at you.

    …Whatever I perceive in my awareness, I can be sure that there is another awareness perceiving me….

    Thank you!


    1. Thank you for visiting my blog and your comment on ‘Crow’. The poem has changed shape many times while I tried to get it just right, and of course, it never will be ‘just right’, that would be too static for crow.
      I like your perception of being aware and being observed in awareness. Thank you.


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