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ENTERING the KINGDOM

The crows see me.  

They stretch their glossy necks    

In the tallest branches    

Of green trees. I am    

Possibly dangerous, I am    

Entering the kingdom.

The dream of my life  

Is to lie down by a slow river    

And stare at the light in the trees–   

To learn something by being nothing    

A little while but the rich    

Lens of attention.

But the crows puff their feathers and cry  

Between me and the sun,    

And I should go now.    

They know me for what I am.    

No dreamer,    

No eater of leaves.

Mary Oliver