A crow was on top of one of the trees cawing. It looked young. Its head seemed fluffy and velvet new. I remember when velvet was so popular. Now it seems so old fashioned in clothing but so right for a young crow’s crown.
Strikes
me how birds don’t have wishes but many who love them do. Whether fish or fowl,
animal or insect, in a tribe or phylum or not of one, there’s not a whole lot
of wishing going on. Except us humans. How I wish for something or someone to
show me how to be the most useful for my wetlands. If we think of the whole world as our body,
the wetlands are our lungs. How can I help our wetlands? We’re working with two
outs and two strikes. But there is hope. We have a player on third. I’m wishing
for at least a single. The wishing, like betting in Vegas, is heavy. My hope is
twinned with fret. Any good player can hit a single.
from half dragon, half mishugana ~ 13 in bird dreams, riding hope, - sometimes a fable, weaving our connections to birds, meandering rivers and dragons, fermenting miso and consciousness,
wetlands,
our extended kin and ancestors, our mentors, and Wisdom.
Inspired
by actual events and a sense of place and belonging by a woman who addresses
the reader on behalf of the earth
Here’s my links,
please share on your socials
https://amzn.to/3F5N7No
https://linktr.ee/fredakarpf
Check out bird dreams, riding hope on Apple podcast
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/bird-dreams-riding-hope/id1659892042
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