I hear crows calls in morning
though hard I am of waking
it is wisdom in their whispers
and the fear we have of breaking
I feel little more than nothing
and the shifting of the sands
for there is solace in the silence
and the winter of your hands
we climbed a secret mountain
in hopes of stealing strength
for each to covet as their own
and begrudgingly give thanks
I hear crow calls in morning
and the dew soaks my head
there I wake up bewildered
by what truth they have said