"The seeing-eye, the beating wing, the bird that laughs at everything.
Misunderstood by everyone, who can not see all things as one".

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Why Crows are Black

"Why am I black?" squawked the tatty young crow,
to its mother, who foraged for insects, below.
"Why are you black?" she cawed, "Well, I don't know."
Which did not the young crow's question answer.

"Why am I black?" squawked the growing young crow,
to the croaking green frog in the pond down below.
"Why are you black?" croaked the frog, "I don't know."
Which did not the young crow's question answer.

"Why am I black?" squawked the not so young crow,
to the sunbathing cat, by the pond far below.
"You can't ask me that, for cats don't talk to crows".
Which did not the young crow's question answer.

"Why am I black?" squawked the shiny black crow,
to the crow in the pond who seemed eager to know,
why it was, he was black, and who didn't yet know,
Which did not either crow's question answer.

"Let us visit the Shaman, and see if he's home!"
So they flapped off, together, but came back alone.
"Why didn't you come?" They both squawked it, as one.
"We decided to go, but then you didn't come!"
"And why do you squawk everything that I do?"
"Can't you ever think up anything that is new?"
"I think I am really more clever than you!"
Which did not the two crow's questions answer.

"And why, rainbow crow, do you talk to yourself?"
The crow jumped, and noticed the Shaman, himself.
Appearing like a spirit, with guile, and with stealth.
"To which question might I have the answer?"

"Tell me why I am black, if you feel that you can",
squawked the crow, "I'm not happy, as black as I am!"
And the Shaman just smiled, and he lifted a hand,
and the crow became suddenly coloured.

"It's a trick of the light," spoke the Shaman to crow.
"A crow's brightly coloured, but people don't know".
"Since they live in the dark, then they can't see a crow."
Which almost the crow's question answered.

"Why did I, think me black, for a human, I'm not",
squawked the crow, to the Shaman, who almost forgot,
to turn, once more, into the crow, he was not,
where the crow's burning question was answered.

In the pond was a crow, now so coloured and bright,
sparkling, and shimmering, and pulsing with light.
A thing to behold, yes, a fabulous sight,
and all the crow's questions were answered.

And e'er since that day, when two crows stopped to play,
and a Shaman appeared, and the dark went away,
only humans see crows that are black, to this day,
and crows have no questions to answer.


  1. So there you are...I wondered where you went!

  2. I was there, all along,
    like the crow, in the pond.
    But seeing me black,
    you felt there was a lack.
    But there, have I sat,
    with the frog, with the cat,
    awaiting your comment,
    please soon, do come back!

  3. "Why am I back?" squawked the tatty young crow..
    "Why am I back?" squawked the growing young crow..
    "Why am I back?" squawked the not so young crow..
    "Why am I back?" squawked the shiny black crow..
    only humans see crows that are back...

    only friends care whether the crow is back
    and couldn't care less whether or not he is black
    Welcome back
    Welcome black!

  4. Hail, Mr Crow,

    I have just availed of the lovely Bunyan clip you offered us over at Bruce Charlton's blog. Thank you. In fact we sang this at our beginning of term service last Tuesday (I am a school teacher).
    Here in return is another very inspiring hymn we sang. It brought tears to my eyes:


    Sincere regards,


  5. Thank you :)
    I hated that song, until I read the words. Amazing! What a story.
    God, Jesus, Life, and Death: An Endless Dance...

  6. This is FANTASTIC. I love crows, and I really love your poetry. Very cool!