Ravens

Ravens


The snow builds up quietly as each flake falls,
the day slips away, then the raven calls.


I watch them go, in two's and three's
as they fly to roost in far off trees.

Ravens scorn the winter, they play and sing;
the snow melts quietly and then it's spring.

With spring comes courtships and flying skills;
rise up the thermals, then a stoop that chills!

These bold black dancers of wind and sky
I watch and wish that I could fly.


James R. Scott


Borrowed from "That I could Fly", A collection of Bird Song, written by James R. Scott D.V.M. Founder of The Bird Treatment and Learning Center, Anchorage, Alaska.