The Crow

13 July 1992

 

 

He had not expected her. He had not expected anything. He had learned never to expect. He was just there lazily watching when out of the corner of one eye he caught a glimpse of a bright shiny and turning and cocking his head to get a better view and inspect, he almost took flight at the blazing, intense eyes and wide happy smile that he saw. A bright shiny like this one he had not seen in a long time and at once he was attracted and wanted to own and at the same time frightened and wanting to fly or to at least jump or move. But he did not jump or fly but instead simply looked away hoping to find something else of interest but his eyes quickly were drawn back to the bright shiny and once again he was so blinded by the light she gave off, he almost took to flight. Why was he so frightened of this bright shiny and yet why could he not leave?

Thoughts. He did not like thoughts and his heart lifted him up and out over the river and under the bridge and then straight into the setting sun and he soared and sailed until slowly the bright shiny faded from his mind and he felt strong enough to circle back.

His mind free of her, he had just folded his wings from flight when without even looking he knew the bright shiny was no longer there and suddenly he missed her. Where was the bright shiny and how crazy this was for him to one moment want to get away and the next be terrified that he might never see the bright shiny again and he stretched out his neck and narrowed his eyes and looked all about for her.

She was gone a long time and all the while the old crow, the ancient wind sailor, searched the horizon over and over hoping for a glimpse of the bright shiny and when he did see her, she was still far off and he felt safe watching her from his distance.

When she finally came to where he was, he hid from view so as to watch her undetected. But as he watched, he suddenly thought to himself that she was aware of him and perhaps even watching him and he bolted and again sailed high up and her hair, flowing down her back, stuck with him and moved in his mind as he twisted one wing and then the other and banked and turned and fell steeply down. But the flight and the wind could not erase her from his mind and he knew he would have to get closer to this bright shiny and without thinking another thought, he spread his wings to slow his descent and sat down beside her.

He could not help himself and he hated himself for it. Foolish old crow he thought to himself. He could never own her.

When she turned to him and her bright eyes and smile came full force on him, his heart leaped, for now he was bathed in her light and could feel the heat of the bright shiny and suddenly it was as if he had climbed too high into the sun and had become blind and disoriented and only after hearing enough of her words, her sounds, did he remember where he was and slowly regain his vision and balance.

Some bright shiny are all empty inside and his interest in these never lasted long but he was not disappointed with this one for she was true and clean and clear like the view of a mountain lake from high above and her words flowed over and about him like the wind when he was in flight. And as she spoke, he watched her watch him in his mind's eye and he could see that she saw him for the old crow that he was and nothing more and somehow this helped him calm himself and slowly he began to regain control of himself and after a while he simply turned and leaped out of her way.

He was content for a long time after leaving her and then the wind shifted and the bright shiny began to move away and he found himself following her even though he knew he could not expect more from her.

She came and went in his mind that evening many times and he took flights of fancy now and then with her and his imagination lifted him across the tree tops and in and out of gentle conscious touchings he thought they shared and his heart would leap and he would disdain it and move about agitated and still her light kept the night bright until finally he watched her go out of sight and all the longings in the world could not make him follow her or she come back to him.

The old crow sits now high above and again watches lazily and sometimes, without warning, his heart remembers her and he is again lifted up by the thoughts of her like an updraft from the earth on a summer's day. Foolish old crow, he thinks and yet he wishes he could see the bright shiny again and make her his.

 

For more Ron Stultz writings, click here.