" The Crow on the Roof "

   
            “The Crow on the Roof”


  He appeared sudden, cautious; calling,
    head cocked; perched at a distance.
  Wary of his surroundings; watching,
    for any sudden movement.

  Historically some found him fearful.
    A bringer of death, fatality.
  But in Indian legend, magical.
    One to lead spirits of warriors.

  But in the 21st century, he remained unnoticed.
    Or a nuisance, a noisy visitor.
  Unless of course, you are like me,
    and his appearance was special.

  I had once thought like many,
    cautiously fearful, casually annoyed.
  Now found myself with reverence,
    awe, wonder, and anticipation.

  Cannot one believe in such a world,
    filled with cyber-tech, intellect?
  That the past fables, stories,
    perhaps have a touch of realism?

    The crow stood upon the roof,
    head cocked, at a distance.
  Cawing upon me to notice,
    daring me to wonder.

  He had come; I believe; announcing.
    His beckoning call, asking.
  For me; a smile replaced despair,
    as he requested my attention.

  “Be wary; he said, of yourself.
    It is your ancestors’ request."
  And memories of my Blackfoot heritage,
    filled my head, my surroundings.

  His black eyes focused on me,
    bearing down; until I took notice.
  "Stand on high, as I, and see,
    there is something good to come."

  And I felt his gaze, his message.
    My heart beat as distant drums.
  Within my veins, coursed blood,
    of lineage of a warrior.

  Despair that had gripped my heart,
    now seemed replaced, filled.
  With thoughts of those once proud.
    of warriors, who left legacy.

  And my focus; sharp as his,
    replaced sunken, hopeless eyes.
  And the broken spirit, ambition,
    replaced with vigor, drive.

  Proudly I thanked my visitor,
  Thankful I remembered heritage.

  S A Gibbins  2-06-01