Mother Crow
(Scroll below to read about the song.)
Don't tell me it's okay. Not yet.
[INTRO]
Mother Crow —
She sees my storm, stays still.
Her gift is her gaze.
Her presence is the present.
O Child of the stars, take your fill.
She divided herself for love's sake,
so you would have someone
to talk to when the sky felt too big.
[CHORUS]
Mother Crow stays while I weep.
She is the hand I learn to receive.
She sees the flinch.
She sees the freeze.
Mother Crow holds me.
(Mother Crow holds me.)
[VERSE 1]
I tucked my son in.
I don't have another bedtime in me.
The little one inside can stay up.
Mother Crow will sit with her.
I imagine a mother who would hold my scream without handing it back.
I close my eyes and build her from scratch.
Don't tell me it's okay. Not yet.
Show me the floor first.
Sit with me in the absence.
Let me feel the shape of this before you call the wound a kiss.
My knotted shoulder knocks.
Mother Crow answers —
“You don't have to carry this alone.
The ache has a place to sit now.”
[PRE-CHORUS]
I wonder what's happening here?
What does the little one need? I wonder.
Curiosity is the seed — Mother waters it.
“You are not your fear. You are the one who notices.”
[CHORUS]
Mother Crow stays while I weep.
She is the hand I learn to receive.
She sees the flinch.
She sees the freeze.
Mother Crow holds me.
(Mother Crow holds me.)
[VERSE 2]
I stand before the mirror,
my mouth full of words I don't yet trust.
She leans into the glass and speaks them for me.
“You are not a burden. You are brave. You are allowed to take up space.”
Her voice does not waver. Mine learns to follow.
“You are not a burden. You are brave. You are allowed to take up space.”
[PRE-CHORUS]
I wonder what's happening here?
What does the little one need? I wonder.
Curiosity is the seed — Mother waters it.
“You are not your fear. You are the one who notices.”
[CHORUS]
Mother Crow stays while I weep.
She is the hand I learn to receive.
She sees the flinch.
She sees the freeze.
Mother Crow holds me.
(Mother Crow holds me.)
[BRIDGE]
When I stomp my feet like a child who never got to rage,
she doesn't say "act your age."
She says: let it out. I'll hold space.
The part of you that hides — I see her. She's welcome here.
[CHORUS]
Mother Crow stays while I weep.
She is the hand I learn to receive.
She sees the flinch.
She sees the freeze.
Mother Crow holds me.
(Mother Crow holds me.)
[OUTRO]
Crow tucks me in.
She says: Rest now. I'll hold the sky.
You do not have to know how to love yourself —
I will love you until you do.
About the Song
I wrote this song for my inner child, Sarah. She's the one I just held a funeral for in FVNERAL. And I realized I don't have to parent her myself — that just added another chore to an already full plate.
Lately I've been learning from Lavinia Brown about the "external parent figure." Instead of trying to be my own mother, I imagine a safe other outside me. For me? A crow.
Mother Crow is the first song in what I'm calling the Crow Family album – a series of external figures to help me fill the gaps where I learned to go hungry: Father Crow, Sister Crow, Brother Crow, Lover Crow, Child Crow.
I'm still early in this. I don't have answers. But the songs help me learn how to be held.
More on the background, the writing process, and the external parent framework soon. For now, here are the words.
The song is streaming everywhere. I wrote the lyrics. The vocals were seeded from my voice, brought to life with Suno.
Crows on the wire, keeping watch over you and the little one inside. 🐦⬛
