James Lee Jobe writes

Blessed are the magic ones, the shape-shifters,
the ones who transform themselves into sleek black cats
to hunt for small creatures between the houses,
or into ravens and crows to hunt beneath the trees,
all the while watching the small corners of life
with sly, black eyes, caw caw cawing out loud.
And blessed are the magic ones, able to leave their bodies,
with their invisible souls that can float between different worlds,
and return, smarter, more kind than before,
giving off light and love to the rest of us,
the ones who had to stay behind, waiting. 
Blessed, magic. Creatures with vast souls. 

Shapeshifter -- Darrah Ananda