Journey of Hearts

Raven flew high in the sky then, in search of a reason, in search of a rhyme. In search of a clue to help him understand time.

Instead, he found Eagle.

Now Raven didn’t have any particular animosity toward Eagle. True, he found Eagle to be far too large and clunky; his war cry sounded more like a chicken than a hawk; and he would never be mistaken for the sharpest tool in any shed in any of an infinite number of universes. Still, Raven knew that Eagle was pure of heart and true of friendship, and so he called out, “Hail, fellow! Well met!”

“How now, Brother Raven!” replied Eagle as he soared effortlessly with his massive wings spread wide. “Are you eating enough? You look smaller than the last time I saw you.”

“You’re experiencing the effect of foreshortening,” Raven said. “You are flying very near to the top of the sky. Come down to the treetops and talk with me, friend.”

It is true that Eagle enjoyed the upper altitudes, a place not fancied by Raven, who preferred the trees. But Eagle was an accommodating sort, and with a quick trim of his wingtips, he gently corkscrewed toward the earth in large, graceful circles, until he alit next to Raven.

“Brother Raven!” Eagle crowed.

Raven tried not to cringe, for he and Eagle were not brothers, nor had they ever been. They had always been clearly, but not unkindly, distinct. They each had their own people, and those people co-mingled thoughtfully and respectfully. Yet, whereas Raven felt a connection with all of his spirit friends, he had to admit that he felt a deeper bond with Eagle. Nearly a Brotherhood. Yet Raven contains multitudes, and he felt Obstinance growing inside him.

“We are not brothers,” said Raven. “Look at you and look at me! From what mother could we have both emerged?”

“Hmm,” Eagle mused. “Metaphorically, I mean. More like, I am the even to your odd.”

Raven had to admit, that wasn’t exactly what he was thinking. 

“It might be closer to say,” said Raven, “though I make no promises: you are the syrup to my pancakes…”

Eagle considered Raven’s gambit.

“I am the top to your bottom?” Eagle wondered.

“More like, you are the butter to my toast,” Raven clarified.

Again, Eagle considered.

“The in to your out?” he asked. “The night to your day?”

“You are the smoke to my salmon,” said Raven.

Eagle’s eyes grew bright. 

“Ah-ha! Yes!” he cried. “I am the smoke to your salmon! Of course I am! I seep into you!”

Eagle threw his wing over Raven’s shoulder.

“How can I help you?” he beamed. “Brother!”

Raven face-palmed. “The World is in a dire place,” he thought, “if its salvation depends upon the likes of us working together.” 

Aloud, to Eagle, he said: “Brother, we must talk.”

Eagle grinned at Raven.

            “Hop on, Brother,” he beamed. “Let us soar to the highest heights where we can parlay in private!”

Raven climbed on Eagle’s back and off they soared.