The name Crawford (one of many spellings) is a surname chosen by early Scottish families at the place on the hill where the crows ford the stream. They are known as the Clan of the Crow. The crow folklore was an important part of their lives, and watching their behaviors gave them warnings of what was soon to come (weather or intruders approaching for example).I wrote this poem with that relationship in mind:

Kindred Crow Perry Crawford 2015

When you fly to places
Far across the shining sea,
On heaven’s errands through the sky
Will you be taking me?

To tell expectant mortals
Who await you breathlessly,
Your tales of sorrow or of joy
Will you be taking me?

When you lead the ships to shorelines
Eyes of men could not behold,
To mark the spot for riches
Made of silver and of gold,

Or warn of hidden secrets
In the hearts of men untold,
If I dreamed of going with you
Would you think my wish too bold?

I don’t have black feathers
That can glisten in the sun,
Nor summon echoes with my cries
That tell of things to come,

I don’t have the knowledge
Of the judgments men must face,
But long to travel with you
When you take them to their place.

Ever present in the distance
I stand waiting for a sign,
That stands as invitation
To arise in flight sublime,

To join a rowdy rookery
Whose total number grows,
And live raucously encompassed
In a murder of the crows.