Dave Bonta's poem imagines a beginning, the moment of becoming aware inside an egg. The speaker says "we," so there is company here, though the two are "silent together." Nothing is explained to them. They are "simple," with no sense of direction, and the poem leans on that innocence.
Then the feeling shifts. Moving "backward and forward" is described as "wild as the sea," which suggests a restless, almost overwhelming sense of motion. Each stroke "seemed like fire," so effort feels painful and intense, as if pushing at the shell is a burning struggle. That is my reading of the images, since the poem never says outright what the strokes are.
The last two lines bring a surprise. The crow "made us whole." It is an odd, slightly dark figure to end on, and the poem doesn't spell out what it means. The mood stays hushed, strange and quietly hopeful, like a birth that is frightening and complete at once.