Breath Of Crows
Rick Holland
My god is in the breath of crows
It grows and shrinks with nature's wish
A fire with no link to the wish of man
But it must be absolute, this god
For when the mind is still it moves
My god is in the breath of crows
May I not delude my I to think
He grows to grant my wish or wash my sin
But let me watch in wonder
As he makes his work wonder in this
Wonder in this
The sound of holy night abound
Kestrel calls and bells drink the air
And the race for meaning quells let it in
Let it in
Or the calls will sound like hollow tin
Or gramophone circles and background dust
I must replaced by must
By scent and sense wonder this