Where is the place to find it all? The crow is cawing far, far.

Where should I go to hear the call? The crow is cawing far, far.

We’re in prison all our lives, half in bandage and half in strifes.

We need a place without the wall; the crow is cawing far, far.

Listen to him when he speaks; where is the sign that we all seek,

The big or small and short or tall, the crow is cawing far, far.

You go to the garden and ask around; you will hear his name, profound;

he reaches to all big and small; the crow is cawing far, far.

I tried to hide and be unseen, live my life as a teen, fourteen.

Where should I go, not bend or crawl? The crow is cawing far, far.

My body is my cage and stage; boiling I am, filled with rage.

I don’t want to be slave and thrall; the crow is cawing far, far.

I asked the crow what was divine. Where can I go to drink his wine?

Learning to read his holy scrawl, the crow is cawing far, far.

Let “Haloo” break his cage and fly, fly into the clouds and die,

escape from this orbiting ball; the crow is cawing far, far.

7/30/16  Haloo