The Tale of the Ancient Raven

The Tale of the Ancient Raven

There once was an ancient Raven

and though he was old, he was hardly wise.

He fancied himself a king of the forest,

landlord of the earth, and captain of the sky.

One sunny morning within his grand, cedar tree,

the Raven was marching down a branch, inspecting all the leaves.

When a cheerful little lark came flying in from the east.

Now the Raven disliked all other birds but the lark he liked the least.

“Where did you come from?” he hollered

“and where have you been?”

“Give me a moment’s rest,” said the Lark

“and I’ll tell you what I have seen.”

The Raven grew restless and stomped his impatient feet.

“Never mind your story,” he yelled. “Just get out of my tree!”

The discouraged little lark, still warm from his flight,

Took off within moments and was soon out of sight.

Though the Raven was King, no companions had he

For he refused to share his forest, let alone his cedar tree.

Little did he know, a white owl in the forest hid,

Quietly observing the Raven King and watching what he did.

The summer melted away and fall arrived on a chill breeze.

The Raven’s forest began to change and so did the cedar’s leaves.

One autumn morning, when the Raven was making his rounds,

He noticed that his green leaves were now a tarnished brown.

The infuriated King demanded they change back or simply leave

And one by one they unclenched their fists and fell off the cedar tree.

The Raven looked below at his fallen soldiers on the ground

And did not make a move. He did not make a sound.

That night, the Owl heard the Raven sob a cry

As the diamond flakes of winter fell from the heavy sky.

Awakening on a bare branch within his cedar throne,

The ancient Raven discovered he was finally all alone.

Instead of being happy for having the forest to his own,

He wished the lark would come again and fly into his home.

After days of quiet solitude, the Raven heard a sound,

It was made by the fluttering wings of a bird that was around.

Instead of the little lark, as the Ancient Raven hoped,

A mockingbird flew in and shook the snow from his coat.

The little bird woke too late and his family had all gone

And left it’s little bird alone to seek the evening sun.

So the mockingbird spread his wings and sailed the winter breeze

And soon he was carried to the Ancient Raven’s tree.

“How do you do?” said the Raven as he gave the bird a seat

on his very own grand cedar throne to rest his tired feet.

The mockingbird sat down and stretched his wings, frail and weak.

While the Raven watched and waited for his new guest to speak.

But the mockingbird said nothing and the Raven said not a word

And the two sat in a silence that was curiously absurd.

The hooting of an owl was carried on a chilly breeze

That wrapped itself around the branches of the cedar tree.

The breeze made the Raven shiver and he could not be at ease.

He eyed his silent guest, who he now wished would leave.

“Say something,” said the Raven. “Oh do please speak to me.”

But the mockingbird proved to be such quiet company.

The Raven was impatient and he ruffled his black feathers.

“We can talk of anything,” said he “even of the weather.”

But the mockingbird said nothing and so the Raven made a vow.

Never again would he desire companions, not ever and not now.

“Oh just get up,” said the Raven “and get out off my cedar throne,

I do not wish for your company. Please leave me all alone”

The mockingbird ruffled his feathers and repeated “all alone.”

“Yes,” said the Raven. “To myself and on my own.”

The mockingbird spread his wings and departed without a word,

As the Raven sulked on his throne, watching the little bird.

From afar, a hooting sounded from the Owl that was so white

But the Raven could not see him through the hazy snow in sight.

“A King without subjects can hardly be called a king.”

The startled Raven looked around and saw the flapping of white wings.

The Owl appeared as if by magic and landed on the cedar tree.

The Raven rubbed his startled eyes and thought they were deceived.

“Where did you come from?” said the Raven,

“and all this time where have you been?”

“I have been in the forest,” said the Owl

“and you wont believe all that I’ve seen.”

“I have seen a silly Raven who fancied himself a king,

but winter could not befriend him and neither will the Spring.

The Raven did not love his subjects nor did he respect the land

And so neither did they respect him nor listen to his commands.

“What makes a true king is something the Raven did not know.

Power comes neither from a crown nor from a wooden throne.

A king cannot measure his love or the extent of his small wings. 

His dreams surpass the heightless sky and only they can crown him king.

“Some day you may be king,” said the Owl,

“But I hope you will sooner be wise.

Wise enough to love without limits and to dream beyond the sky.”

With a flutter of white wings, the Owl did soon depart

And in the chill of the cedar tree, the Raven warmed his heart. 

The End.