Musings
Silence of the Crows
Squawking echos in the distance
Making known their presence
Hiding in the trees
With guttural replies in a flutter of leaves
Chaos explodes in a cacophony
Into the sky the tribe bursts free
Flying in a dark mass of noisy protest
Swarming for their next perch fest
A lone crow lingers near
He stares at you without fear
A photo opportunity may be your goal
He disappears to preserve his soul
Cackling spreads from tree to tree
All day a relentless chatter
What are they saying
Beaks open wide tilting their head
As they watch us from above
What are they seeing
The sunrise casting over a new morning
Brings a quiet stillness as if waiting
The mist over green fields gently rising
Black feathered forms move slowly in the wet grasses
There it is
The silence of the crows
They are feasting
A sacred moment
Shhhh