(for William Stafford)

Birds below the winter sky,
their wings etched in black
against the thick gray blanket.

In leafless months they’re visible
in rooks and nesting branches
as they come and go in the wet morning.

Their patterns marked above
the crowded street, where cars
move in straight lines, the birds
cover and cross by their desire.

I weave them together in my thoughts
as peace chiefs of the great prairie
offered prayers during the horror,
when the buffalo were ridden down,
the grass altar torn apart.

Warriors said their prayers were crazy
but the old ones told them
their prayers were not crazy enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

17 Responses

  1. We cannot survive without living in balance with all our relations. Crazy wisdom seems the only viable answer to rapacious madness.
    Thank you, Don.

  2. Beautiful, Don. I like the imagery of the cars moving in straight lines with the birds moving overhead by their own desire. A touching poem.

  3. Crazy enough to long for the ley lines to be honored by humans as they are by the birds and bison.

  4. Don, what a marvellous role and function this image casts: “always the knitter of the frayed edge and contrary force” – weaving it all back into a seamless garment in swirling patterns of living cloth – and the the owl just winked at me – crazy, perfectly crazy!

  5. Don, I love this picture. It took me a few moments to realize I was seeing two babies with their mother. The camouflage is marvelous. The last portion of your accompanying poem is a bit enigmatic for me, but I like it nonetheless. Thank you!

  6. BEYOND POWERFUL! When we strive to live authentically, true to our own unique Original Medicine nature, anyone who doesn’t allow this in themselves, views us as “crazy.” I consider this a great compliment!
    Your Crazy Sister, T

  7. Thank you, Don. We just finished building many nest boxes for screech, barn and barred owls here in Texas. Part of our Texas Master Naturalist program. So I loved the photo.

  8. Crazy took me to marvelous experiences and places in this lifetime. Fear didn’t have a chance talk me out of them. But, boldness might not be crazy enough…

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