At dusk you fly over our place, coasting on the graying sky - your number rising from the shadow of the trees, a strong battle-front: a murder of crows squawking your firm presence on the wind: a soaring chant. You ride your voices and your wings into the sun as it dips into the Bay.
Each evening at dusk, I wait for you.
Each evening at dusk, a murder of crows. Photo by Mary Elyn Bahlert, 10/2023
I am a spiritual seeker, a seeker who has "taken a drink from many cups." I love to accompany others on the deeper journey to witness to their True Self. Now a writer, photographer and poet, I have retired from full-time ministry as a pastor in downtown Oakland, CA.
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