Grey Sky, Black Bird

Bleak Sky, Black Bird

Grayness drifts
Eclipsing the world with a drear unclear
Bound down to the ground, from here I stare

Cool dry air, all condensed, floating there
Just what about its color makes us care?

Why rejoice to a blue sky, and beckon it in prayer
But repulse at a gray one, retreating into lair?

Is it right?
Is it just?
Is it remotely fair?

Or is it as bad of practice as is judging folks by hair,
-Or by coloring of eyes, or skin, or what they wear,
as it is to place a judgment on some charcoal colored air?

We reject all sorts of things.
All sorts of fucking things!
And I do it too, to you and you; what bad vibes that shit brings.

-So for maybe twenty minutes, each day lets try and stop...
Smile at all things, even the crow that sings, upon the pine tree top-

For to judge that crow before you know exactly what he says
Is not completely different, than judging our own dark skinned pres.

And it’s just a BIRD! But its more than that-

Its a reflection of the way we see- the kind of life we’ll live-
Its a rejection of the love, the love that we must take and give

For when we see in black and white,
We miss all others shades of light
-Which leads to weak, diminished sight,

And a tragic inability, to experience delight