Smart little buggers…

Stock image. Eventually I’ll take a picture of them outside my house.

A murder of crows
hangs around my
house… a lot.
They’ll find a nut,
fly it to the top
power line, drop
it, fly down,
see if it cracked
open, then fly it
back up, drop it
again. Till it opens.
Over and over.

One is currently perched
on the power line bobbing
it’s body up and down and
squawking. Over and over.
Eventually, the potential
mate, the potential foe,
the annoying human, will
answer. The mate will invite.
The foe will fly or fight.
The human will walk away.
For now he patiently bobs
’n squawks, bobs ‘n squawks.
Over and over.

Everyday, morning and night,
I work the tools I have
been given. Over and over.
I learn more, I understand
more, I heal more, I
transform more, I transmute
more. Over and Over.
Eventually, I’ll heal myself
enough, I’ll unblock myself
enough, and abundance will
flow instead of trickle. Till
then, and even then, I will
work the tools, morning and night,
over and over.