The call
The caw
It issued forth
from the Crow's mouth
but it was prayer
on my lips.
It pierced the morning
separating night from day.
I clung to its echoes
the way a bird clings
to a ferocious wind
no choice
as it cleaves its space from the air.
Slicing the indivisible
the way a moment
slices future from past
yet changes in each instant
always different, always the same.
I knew the day'd be bright
whether or not the sun shone
for I'd spent my ~time~
in the blackness of that night.
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