The Crow knows where each leaf will rest beneath the Moon’s unwavering gaze.
The Crow knows why the cricket sings,
where the bee keeps sleep,
how the bat believes.
The Crow knows where the rivers crack,
where the mountains bow,
where the sands float free.
The Crow knows where Bear will drown. The Crow knows when Eagle will fall.
The Crow knows how Stone will breathe. The Crow knows what Forest sees.
Before the blazing brother Sun the Crow regards a naked Earth. Without respect for friends or foes, the Crow attends each precious Birth.
He rests a wing upon each brow to mark the day the Boat will come, and bear each child across the bay of Light to burn True Pain away.
The Crow knows what the Thunder feels.
The Crow can see the End of Days