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3 crows

Revelations, a sonnet

Slowly most arrive, others not quite so,

rarely seen, that sudden flash of light;

more often our knowing takes time to grow

before the curtain parts, before dark nights

become then clear as brightest of all days.

Sailing by, walking on, dancing through,

chosen from various offered ways,

never to return, nothing there to rue.

Clearer vision then leads to clearer choice,

moments of insight, filled with wonder

can be heralded by a simple voice.

Seldom darkest clouds are rent asunder.

Oftentimes I heard simple sweet bird song

that at evening sings alone and strong.