Why Can’t Poetry Bring Light?

On a morning of glory and beauty
I listened outside my door, thrilling to
Sounds of crows crying kaka kaka, kaka
Not evermore, evermore like black
Ravens of old dried up pages of
Darkness but my pages hold nothing less
Than the promise of day when the shadows melt away
To give rays of brightness and light, hope and beauty
No sad tales here to find just beauty and
Grace of life and forgiveness abounds for
Ever more to eternity. Sorry Poe
That you found darkness and not lightness in
A silent night where frogs caught bloodsuckers
To stop the onslaught of death’s powerful hold.

That gives way to mornings of glory and
Beauty evermore my crows sing kaka, kaka,
Kaka on perches of bushes aflame with budding light
In the sun of the day. No gray, no black no death
No sadness. Sorry Emily for your deep grief
So deep the water of the lake a resting place
Not for shrouds but little goslings afloat
Following in rows their mothers who
Watches over them with love not instinct
Of animals emotion and likeness
Realness and seeking their own meaning

Crows can remember far longer than we
They don’t seek a reaper or misery but
Smiling and hoping mothers and fathers
Tending their families of sisters, brothers
Passing on memories and tales of laughter
As they watch us humans bustle about
Not noticing that our crows sing kaka.