The Wings That Carry

The birds perched on the treetops
They roost and squeak and chatter
By the afternoon sun's rise
Many more will have gathered

I walk my path and ignore
Their tweets that fill the air
But they flock about the crossroads
And present an unflinching glare

Sometimes I reach up to them
And they gaze down at me
But is it the birds who fly away
Or me the one who flees?

At night I dream of talons
Tearing my hair out
Yet when I awake from bedlam
I read it with some doubt

As I tell my stories to the birds
They cannot help but laugh
For their wings have always carried me
I, the crow, am quick to forget that

One day I'll catch a fallen feather
And greet fair days forever more
Unto myself or among the flock
Beyond this lonely path, I will soar