The Crow

What wild thing am I?

often seen jet black

and cawing

but there is iridescence in these feathers

if you see me in the light,

if you look closely

small rainbows that dance with prismatic glee

upon my plume

if you share with me some peanuts

I will share with you my loyalty

and bestow upon you

small trinkets of fallen stars

I've collected in my migrations.

I sing songs of my lands proudly

in the ancient native tongues of my home

though my lineage crosses oceans.

I have never longed to be

a more fearsome, wilder thing

I am content with being small,

solving puzzles,

making tools to rope the moonlight,

and gliding, with open wings,

upon the wind that knows me.