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Post 5.5

This piece was posted on my instagram, but for those who don't follow me, I think it deserves a place here as well-


The crow rose upon a thermal to meet my plane of sight as I stood on an airy spur of stone, the horizon's edges catching aflame at all corners of the arching sky above. 
"Come fly with me", he said, his sleek black body banking toward my perch. His right eye, scarred and searching, found my gaze, its amber depths hinting at stories far beyond my human understanding. I sit down at the edge, air yawning beneath me, and lower my head in apology at my earth-bound status.
"Come fly with me", he urges again, his body now positioned level with my forward gaze, that alert amber stare piercing my mind. 
"Together, we will fly as far as our bodies will carry us. We will fly till the Earth is upside down, and oceans drain to the clouds below. We will fly to a place where rivers are known to tire of their banks, and, by the glow of moonlight, take monstrous, watery steps towards a different valley to guide their waters. We will fly till the rolling of hills gives way to the yearnings of mountains, straining upward to meet their dreams in the sky, and till those mountains crumble to a vast desert, where we will fly till we imagine the whole Earth cannot be large enough to contain such volume of land. And finally, we will swoop low over the surface of a calm lake, and watch as our shadows dive towards the center of the planet, while we surge upwards, blissfully immune to its pull."
With a bitter shake of my head, I explain to him why such a thing is impossible. I provide all the reasons one would be inclined to, I cite my lack of wings, and the weight of a body which would be sure to snap any which somehow appeared. I felt I could list impossibilities till the sun pulled forth the moon from its resting place in the ocean miles west, but finally looked up to meet his knowing gaze, and simply stated "I can't."
The crow laughed, a cawing ruckus which bounced from the cliff beneath us towards the meadow far below.
"But child", he chided, his words gently patronizing me, "Child, you have but to try."

Comments

  1. Isaac, another wonderful piece! I’ll think off this when I’m watching the corvids catch thermals above the ridge near Lake Superior.

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