Conversation with a Butterly
Conversation with a raven
I was waiting for my love to return and see me. I was sitting by
the sea, perched on a huge cliff. The sun was coming up behind me as I stared out at the
horizon. A raven flew by, great and black and loud.
"Why are you sitting there" screeched the raven, as it
passed by me.
"Because I do not know what to do, raven" I said.
"Why do you not know what to do?" asked the raven, who
circled and glanced out of its eyes in all directions.
"I am in love and I cannot think right" I said.
"If I stand up I want to sit down, if I sit down I want to
stand up, if I hold still I want to move, if I move I want to hold still. What kind of
thinking is that?" I said to the circling black bird.
"That is not thinking, that is feeling or not feeling well,
however you may chose to see it" squealed the great raven as it turned and rose with
"You see, poor foolish man, how I move with the wind"
the taunting raven continued. "That is how you must move with your feelings. You must
ride on them. You must let them be or be with them. But most of all, you must not mistake
feelings for thoughts. If I were so foolish I would try to control the wind rather than
chose my course and elevation within its ever changing currents. I would think that I
could, or I would try, by beating my wings to make the wind change or to go against the
wind, which for an avian species like me is a really stupid kind of thing to do,
particularly in a very high wind. One makes that kind of mistake only once, or maybe twice
if they are a little slow at learning like you are."
"Face the facts. You are alone waiting for your love, you
do not feel comfortable with the loneliness and fear that she will disappear. Rather than
let the discomfort come and go, rather than trust her, you dwell in your discomfort by
avoiding it. Your fears hang over you because you cannot simply recognize them for what
they are, passing doubts, and ride them like the wind" said the great black bird.
"One would think you would get tired of talking with the
animals and the stars and the moon and all the other animate, inanimate and spiritual
beings about all this" said the raven "and, besides, it is not clear we are
getting anywhere talking to you. I should think it is we, the birds and animals that have
the intelligence and you poor soul, given how you act every time your love goes away, have
little or none."
"Oh well, I feel the wind rising and talking to you can be
very boring compared to soaring with the wind. I have far to go to find a place to rest
tonight, being of a rather undomesticated bent I prefer to move around a lot"
squawked the raven tilting in the air and hovering for a moment.
"Here I go again" said the raven "see you
sometime if I ever pass through here again. You look awfully insignificant from up high,
you look awfully foolish from up close. I hope you feel better soon, it is a great day to
be flying in this changing wind" cried the raven as he was blown first high and then
low across the sky.
As I watched the raucous raven disappear into the distance I sat
by the sea, perched on the great cliff. I felt my loves breath in the wind, heard her
heart beat in the waves ' saw her beauty and soul in the sea, and felt her presence, her
peace in me, for a moment as her love filled the horizon approaching me like a summer
Conversation with a Butterly
Copyright In To It Publishing, T. Steele & W. Davis