70.

Crows

It seems impossible:

So small a brain encompasses

Such great intelligence

But what do we know?

I know that when I walk out

Sharp eyes also scan

The landscape, comprehend

WithIn a different frame,

Their alien reference:

I, reading their sky

See nothing on their canvas,

Their jostling model.

I can’t read the map.

They circle from their tree.

Their landmark centre

Fly out to beat the bounds

Stake out their resolutions,

Weave new patterns,

A world envisaged,

Networked by their matrixed quest

New pathways in the mind.

They caw their logic

Chorusing the land’s dark soul

Telling its story -

But maybe simple joy

Shatters tight confining bonds,

Proclaims their mindless passion !