La Mort

Once upon a time,

A black crow landed at my feet

It was able to speak

A language I couldn’t understand

It spoke very animated

I wish I could comprehend

What the little bird was trying to say

Its voice had the soothing liasion of the French

But spoke with the power of the German tongue

And the precise intonations of English jargon

Knowing this however

Didn’t help me understand my new avian friend.


I debated whether it was hungry or hurt

I happened to have bread

Having done my shopping

After work

I broke off a morsel and chucked it

For my hungry friend

But it kept on talking

Still I did not understand

I tried to reach for it

To see if it was hurt

But it fluttered away from me

Then came close again


In the sky

There was a thousand birds

Couldn’t tell whether they were crows

The crow looked up

Then looked back at me

It pointed one of its wings to the sky

And kept on talking

Then it dawned on me what it looked like

Like a witness of something mad

Is there trouble little friend?

Are those birds running away?

The crow took a tiny step and flew away


As if forgetting something

The crow flew back at me

And in perfect English

Said to me

I’m a raven not a crow

And I’ll be back for you

Each of us must retrieve one soul

But you’ve been kind

I’ll give you time

Go and hide

It took flight

In the opposite way.


Come with me

To the edge


Don’t be afraid

Look down

What do you see


Falling upwards

A rainbow

Black and white


Built like mountains


Built like clouds

Strange it may be

But it might

Just be heaven

Like getting lost

In your eyes

Smitten by

Your laugh

Touched by

Your voice

Time to say good bye

I was never good at skipping rocks. I would throw them across a lake and see if they would bounce. They fell straight down. Here’s hoping one day, the lake freezes over and at least my rocks will slide.