A Murder of Crows

As night descended
the birds intended
to raise some havoc.
A murder of crows
their angry shouts grow
a rageful black flock.

Dark from head to toe
all who see them know
not to mess with them.
They control the streets
all who see, retreat
lest they stand condemned.

Grouped voices murmur
crows planning murder
opposing the peace.
They rule the night
when they take flight
dark anarchy seized.

Relative Silence

I sit in silence
listening for God
but silence is a relative term.

The refrigerator hums
birds chirp
once in a while.

My stomach asks,
“When’s breakfast?”

I think I hear people moving,
but perhaps not…

Watercolor Morn

Watercolor morn
I step out my door
and gaze to the West.

Cool gray sky,
wet on wet
stands in stark contrast
to the ragged treeline
nearly black.

Our minds are trained to fill in missing pieces
–interpretively–
blue skies
green trees
but the Artist’s palate
contains more color.

As the sun ascends in the East
and the earth genuflects in reverence,
new brush strokes are added
to nature’s scene.

Green blue and Indian yellow
edges mystically softened.

Soon contrasting shapes and colors and edges
amorophous scene becomes beauty
bearing the signature of the Creator.