One beautiful morning dad shot 2 crows out of his pecan tree.
One fell from the top branch to his death,
the other ran across the field to hide in the tree line.
Dad and I dressed quick and ran to hunt him down and finish him off.
A dozen crows were wild with caws, “run for you life! fly, fly, fly!”
Dad straddled the barbwire fence.
I ran back to the dead crow under the pecan tree
and waited for the shot,
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A few minutes later I paused in my study of the crow at my feet.
His feathers shiny black with splotches of scarlet.
How beautiful was his blood against his black.
I straightened up to see dad coming across the field,
crow in his right hand, gun in his left.
He hung em on the wooden swingset so the other crows could see.
Then we picked up pecans beneath dad's pecan tree.
She realized wisdom had come and now demanded her to change her behavior to suit the season upon her. No longer a girl nor a young lady, but an older woman. Made ready to stand strong to stand firm to plant roots in the earth from the soles of her feet. Grounded in truth. Wisdom encouraged her to grow her hair long, her body to be strong, her mind clear and her heart open to love. She had become the vision planted in her youth. Now she was, not may be or will be, but was. And she was happy to take her place. The tears of her youth fell yet another time but quickly faded as she looked to the heavens and beheld the clouds and the rainbow, broken but invisibly whole and she felt loved, truly loved for the first time in her life. Oh she will never achieve perfection but she will achieve life abundant, joy overflowing, peace that surpasses all understanding, life eternal. She is blessed beyond all measure and her name is Stacey and she is me.