
As The Crow Flies

This land is not hers
Any more than it is ours
Or yours or mine.
For Crow, land is where
Ripe berries grow;
The places her family inhabits.
The water, still flowing,
Sustains not only the ones
Who make noise, but all.
Crow, she knows there is enough
Though she may need to move
To find it. And she sometimes does.
Let me fly
As Crow flies: searching and
Finding what I need.
Let me know abundance--
This land, this water,
This earth below me.
Let me share what is
Required for life
With my neighbors all around.