Crow Takes My Hand

Crow calls to me from above. There he is—on that roof.  He extends his invitation again and again.

leave sidewalks behind–
rise, and conjure golden fields
waving to azure

skies filled with high flying clouds,
wings singing songs into the air

I know there is magic here, even in places filled with concrete and glass.

Holding out my arms, I wish: carry me home.

watching my child-self
lying in a bed of green–
opened up, shining

For NaPoWriMo today, we are talking to animals.  Crow is always hanging around in my world.