Tag Archives: dove

Caw

Caw: (n) harsh cry of a crow or similar bird.

Everybody seems to prefer when I’m sweet. They relish my gentle tone. They will tear up when discussing my merciful nature. If they were describing me in aviary terms, I would be the nightingale, the dove or the robin offering the promise of spring.

That goes on for a while. And then the need arises to be the crow–the blackbird that offers a darker view, with a bit of cackling, complaining
 and crankiness.

No one likes this old bird. They even speculate that perhaps I’m not feeling well or I’m vexed by a bad mood.

It never occurs to them that my crow shows up when things are not right–so that my robin can return in good conscience.

People’s ears are tuned to the tweeting of the love bird instead of the caw of the flying scout, who scours the field ahead to offer a warning.

I suppose I enjoy being the songbird much more than being the “cackler.”

But every once in a while, the crow has to show up and remind us that the scarecrows we’ve set out to frighten away danger aren’t nearly as terrifying as we hoped.

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Above

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Above:  (prep.) in extended space over and not touching: a display of fireworks above the town.

I’ve always liked the word above.

Having written a song or two in my time, above happens to be one of those words that rhymes with love. Actually, love is a tough rhymer. You can throw in dove, but how does that ever make any sense? I even heard a song the other day that rhymed love with of. I thought that was rather bold.

Of course, because above rhymes with love, there is a danger of over-use. I guess that would personify the word above. If something is over our heads and doesn’t touch us, it’s pretty non-human, right?

I appreciate the sky, but I’ve never had a conversation with it. Why? Because it’s above me.

I can understand that there are planets over our heads, but that’s about the extent of my involvement with these circling orbs. Why? They’re up above.

Maybe that’s why God has such a big public relations problem. Maybe if we told everybody He had a nice ranch house just outside Paramus, NJ, it would be a lot easier to relate to Him. But since He’s above us, in heaven, and not touching us every day, it’s very easy to start feeling silly about trying to interact with Him–similar to some dude standing in the middle of the street, screaming at the sky.

Actually, probably the smartest thing God ever did was drop down from above, become human and show us love.

Huh.

There you go. That’s why love and above rhyme–because until the love comes from above, we can’t understand … um …

See what I mean? I’ve run out of words to rhyme.