IN THE BEGINNING was the darkness and the word. Skylady took the word, and divided it to many quills. To distinguish between, she fashioned each plume as a slightly different shade of black, with subtle gleaming. Then she taught the dark creatures to fly, and spake, "You are Crow: go forth on yon wings of ebon splendour."

Skylady had made what later and lesser beings would copy in gaudy brightness: that which the Earthbound would call rainbow, and hold as promise by their gods. Yet Skylady maken no pledge, nor does she accept any. For she is the root-caw of all we speak, knows full well the meaning of our black hearts. And that always we croak a little a-wry of what we truly wish to say.

Our speech is as our wings: to others our calls are of darkness only. Most observe merely that our plumage is black, and say no more of us. This is why we are as we are.... We were the first to hatch. We flew alone from a clearing storm with the winter within. We fledge as coruscant shadows beyond the gleaming rainbow.

Pwl ~ June 1998 ©
[180 words]

My thoughts inspired by this scene, a typical English dusk, early-gloaming though only five days before the summer solstice....

....Seeing a face, long lost, yet sudden-revealed in the dark folds and contours of ice-bearing cloud, with the hidden sunlight streaming through. Watching a befriended Carrion Crow fly from under the arch of a rainbow. Flew straight over, circled low, dipped and gave a longdrawn call-to-flight cry. I could say nothing in reply and my tears were mingled with the sleety rain.

Pwl, as a ragged wingshadow, wild 'gainst snowsome skies.