Pierced at the ‘Caw’

I love crows. It is a mystery to me as to why they fascinate me, but I love to watch them and observe their lives. I do not fear them or think them evil, and believe a short freestyle poem on this hallowed day is appropriate!

On this night when the veil between this world and that of the Spirit is thin, may you be touched by the lives of your ancestors and may their memories always live in your hearts. Happy Halloween!

crowintrees

I love my crows.

They are liquid black beauty.

They strut as they walk, confident.
What do they know?

I am pierced at the ‘caw.’
It makes me pause; I turn my heading looking for something.
Something I know? Something I lost? Something I need? Something….

Catching the eye of a crowcrowmoon
is contact with magic, with Merlin or Diana.
It is a gateway to the Dreamtime, to The Deeps, to the Soul.

On the wing, scratching the ground for food, cawing into the wind, they turn my head, thrill my heart
calling me to the Universe they rule,
where I am my true self living in the magic of the Old Ones.

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