High aloft,
Deep in leaf,
Talons locked,
Lest he sleep,
Crow is perched,
He guards their keep.
Unseen, all seeing,
His eyes must know,
Who is friend, what is foe.
Those dawns I cross
The cold bare floor to
Barefoot step
Through kitchen door,
Rising to the skies I hear
My secret raucous name ring clear
As Crow cries out
For Clan to hear,
Friend is here,
Our friend is here.
Then such Love and joy I feel,
And peace of heart
The Night to heal.
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 11:44 PM UTC
High aloft,
Deep in leaf,
Talons locked,
Lest he sleep,
Crow is perched,
He guards their keep.
Unseen, all seeing,
His eyes must know,
Who is friend, what is foe.
Those dawns I cross
The cold bare floor to
Barefoot step
Through kitchen door,
Rising to the skies I hear
My secret raucous name ring clear
As Crow cries out
For Clan to hear,
Friend is here,
Our friend is here.
Then such Love and joy I feel,
And peace of heart
The Night to heal.
Crows may be my favorite animal. I love to listen to their complex language and observe their communal behavior. I have taken care of crows wherever I lived, guaranteeing them a continuous supply of food and water, increasing their food quantity during molting season when they need extra calories for growing new feathers. They have occasionally brought me gifts.
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