MayDay on Pike's Peak

MayDay on Pike's Peak

There are crows on the mountain,
scrabbling for food,above the tree-line,
in the sere mountain grass.
Raven shamans watching
the ascending and descending
spiral of tourists
on the mountain.
These Corvidae kings know
the mountain is a maypole;
a macrocosmic double helix.
The streamers of cars
ascending and descending
God's labyrinth.
The carrion birds know
you must follow a labyrinth
to its molten core;
a unicursal journey.
The crows know
that a wave
is a
particle
is a
stream
is a
spiral galaxy.
In here.
Out there.
It's all the same.
The crows
know.