On awakening.

In her dreams

She is flying



Into secret places

beyond mountain

And mind


Of Her soul

where even in winter

It is lush and green

fragrant and comforting


Places no one else

can touch

Or see


And maybe she won’t share

not even with you

Unless she feels certain


You need to know

she keeps them for



She becomes Crow

seeing from above

A mountain in


parts of a whole


Its steep slopes

and jagged rocks

And soft spring grasses

Waving in the

evening light

Throwing gold on the hills

And silver where the river curves

teasing with her uncertain course

She can follow only from so high


As if she were

in the wind, of the wind



Across the open flats

and navigating the

Rugged bluffs


In and out of

tall timber

Until at last she lights


upon the highest snag


Above it all

the voyeur of Her soul

Seeing across the big air


And down into that

hidden oasis

No one else is meant to see


Stealing a glimpse


In this vast entirety


Absorb Her world

open your eyes with her

And find yourself still