The Plight Of The Crows Poem by Terrance Tracy

As I was walking, I was a witness
To a display that occurs every day.
Oblivious to the scene, my complacency
Made me blind to the message that is
Apparent each day; a visage of metaphorical
Display, because it is for the reader to decide the path
To choose at the crossroads of life: this is the
Path one must choose to follow, to be free from struggle and strife.

From proximity near, I could hear a raucous
Squabble up in the trees; repeated each day
Finally caught my attention and this is what
I saw.

Three black crows took flight in the air;
Forming a haphazard formation consisting of two in front
In addition, one crow reluctantly following behind the first two.
From a perch atop the trees there sat a fourth crow;
Squawking orders to crow number three “Get back in formation,
I don’t want to hear your declaration of my territory.”
With presumption of authority, he squawked his
Boastful decree, “Get out of this tree because this
Tree belongs to me.”

From a camouflaged, limb one hundred yards away not easy to
See the three crows landed and declared, “This tree belongs to
We three, it is our manifest destiny.”

Immediately, the fourth crow took flight squawking, “Where
Are they were going? ” “Do not go there, these trees belong to me”
“I am the crow given authority to reign over this territory. I do not care
About neither manifest destiny nor eminent domain; for this is my
Land promised by my creator for I have eminent domain.”
The cacophony that ensued was louder than before and once more
The three flew out of the tree one two and three.

Whatever point you gleam from this little stream is a parallel of the
Plight of humanity for every day we act the same way; and that is insanity.