well well well

look what the wind blew in
one little bird on a big black tree
singin his sweet night song to me

sitting in the dark I can hear him call
or click and roll his tongue

and i wonder

now what have i done
i chuckle and whisper my response to the shadows
and he sits and waits like he's not sure he's satisfied with my answers

the moons just a sliver...a slice of light in the dark
i sit outside and pick noises apart
i can hear him moving
along the branch
watching me
waiting
will my answers pass?
because if he's not satisfied....oh will he wait
rather than take them back too early and be handed his ass on a plate.   laughs.

i pretend not to notice....lighting my smoke
i lean back on the step and then my head back
stare up at the sky and find a few stars
and after a minute
...i hear him again caw

it's almost a growl at me!
i swear that it is
but i laugh just the same
because it's just his old game
he checks on me
takes notes
and reports back to a shade of odin

i'll sit here and wait
what choice do i have
evolving and growing
trying not to gauge which way the wind is blowing
to just let it flow around me like a river
sweep me up and around and away where it wishes
i try to let go....just hang on for the ride
strands curl in the wind and i watch them like smoke
quite some grey in there now...i think with a grin
and suddenly  in there somewhere
i wonder

am i really what i think i am

so few are, i imagine,
and blink
but i shake my head and close my eyes to the night
and my heart sighs long and i know that i'm right
 the signs are there
and have been for so long
i don't remember a time i couldn't decipher the night song
or the sound of a raven...or a big ass black crow
or other kindred to ravens.....
at least one kind anyway

a little more dangerous
a little more dark
their cunning and loyalty pumps through their heart
and so smart...
people over look that you know....  they think with their fear
but if you know what to look for you can see it in there
their fierceness...that strength...will have you stopping in tracks for a glimpse of that spirit
that subtle undercurrent of attack
but you see it in eyes
you see it in their stare
that they are a kind you know from somewhere
and they recognize it in you...you can see that too
tho no words will ever do

i wonder if everyone can see it...just there...the light hits their eyes and your paralyzed somewhere
or ...how in a particular photo it truly feels...
that if you moved ...
their eyes might move for real

and in person?
hmm
forget it
your toast
don't try
they'll lock down and have you squirming under that watchful eye
a curious kindred, this particular breed
never tamed
but there in any time of need
no matter how wild
no matter how daunting
across veils and worlds
how much time is too far?
 the kind that will find you wherever you are


but now I've gone and gotten off track

or have i

the crow just left....


let's see how long it takes him to get back


*wicked laughter and the light fades purple blue and gone*



***smiles and laughs to myself knowing most people on the planet will have absolutely no clue what this means and that's alright.  that's exactly how art should be, no?  and anyone that needs to know it's meaning...already does***