He knows the mists that count his flight tonight
Proud soul the crow that stands on wires alone;
what made him bleed on paths of faded light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?
The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
'this blur has come lone lives to swith enfold'.
Ethereal crow fled on ascension trail,
stouthearted is his soul's long path my Lord
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil
his stalwart wings on winter's wailing chord.
And infinite became in mists his flight
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.