White Crow

Her eyes were tired, heart weighed down,
her boy’s sharp cries had filled the town.
Her tears were heavy, spirit worn,
her son’s deep struggles left her torn.

Love held her close and stroked her hand,
searched for a way she’d understand.
Love softly said, “I’ll bring you rest,
maybe some peace, I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll bring you food, a little care,
a piece of peace to ease despair.”
Love stepped outside through skies of gray,
and walked along the weary way.

There on the path, a white crow stood,
so strange and rare, yet bright and good.
Love paused in awe, then took a frame,
to show her hope through grief and pain.

Love raised his phone, the moment caught,
a gift of hope, a gentle thought.
To show her later, when shadows fade,
even in sorrow, wonders are made.

For love is quiet, gentle, true,
in food, photos, all he could do.
Though storms may rise and hearts may ache,
love gathers light for her to take.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

This poem was inspired by my husband’s encounter with a white crow a couple of weeks ago. These are some of the photos he was able to take of it. 💕