
We ride like birdsour heads are feathersour face is bloodour thoughts are weatherwe lay in skywe talk like songsour plans in darknesscan float like swansour friends are branchesour loves are leaveswe pray for moonlightthe wind it breatheswe’re black in snowfallwe’re death and laughterwe scavenge silverhave seen here afterour dreams are mothersour tracks are smokewe whisper childrenwe smell their hopethe love of fathersthe hunting crowsthe silent heavensthe rain that blowswe know this somewherewe know this flightwe sleep in mapsand eat the nightwe ride like birdswe’re death and laughterour heads are feathersour tracks are smoke- Mark Mordue* Above image 'Crow on a branch' by Maruyama Kyo (1733-1795)
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