Crows’ Skin
— Samuel Webster —
this morning
I woke up with my
crows’ skin on
kyrie, eleison
I shall find
my father now
whose soul took flight
christe, eleison
or my friend who
took his life
no longer lonely now
kyrie, eleison
my dance-away lover
crushed in a car
she waits for me
spiritus
perhaps just perch
in a tall aspen
watch the legged peoples
unnoticed seraphim
man being the creature
aware of his demise
driven insane by this knowledge
kyrie, eleison
my waking days
in this crows’ skin
seem shorter now
christe, eleison
You managed to put into words what is always on the mind’s periphery; this human condition with death as much a part as life – how our knowledge of our demise – both individually and now, collectively and human-caused – sets us “apart” from the animal and plant creatures. this “knowledge” drives some humans insane, drives wars, violence, and greed, as well as creativity and compassion and great works. I love this poem, everything about it, including the view from within the crow’s skin.
Pax Vobiscum Samuel.
A good poem starts a train of thought; for example, I wonder if some of our fellow
critters, especially crows, ESPECIALLY CROWS, don’t also harbor premonitions of life’s brevity. Just wondering…