The Crow and the Songbird

There once was a sound much like a din that would made the crows scream. None could hear this static except them. Why? Because no other bird would listen. They were too grand in their endeavour to hear anything else but the sheen of their feathers like a queen who always tethers with loose strands of hair and chops them off because they are not as grand as her. The crows tried to teach the other birds, but no. “Why do you scream so?” they sing, in harmony. They took low regard for the crow because he was not fair. Why does this rubbish hear it but I cannot? He eats scraps of meat from the carcass of another man and builds his nest from trash. His beak is too large, his feathers too matte, his heart too big, his brain too thoughtful. He would scream the song of the static because it was such a beautiful song, such a mighty din. Regardless of how loud he screams, his voice is heard but not heard. One day, all the other lovely song birds got fed up of his truth because he could hear it but they could not. They called him mad, delusional. He felt it course through his veins, he lived and breathed this static, this truth. The song birds whose ways were forever worshipped and materialised were threatened by the crows’ loud, agonising screams. They could no longer bear it, so the birds coaxed the crow into walking into their caves which they shared with the bats. Although the crow followed, the crow also knew what followed. The crow was no fool. Indeed it was dark and the crow could not see, the crow continued to scream. His screams echoed and bounced off the walls. The crow screamed louder than the bats could wail. The crow silenced them with his truth, yes! It is working! But there are still some who remain deaf through all this. They all still call the crow names; they poke and pinch at the crow. Does the crow stop his preach? Never! The crow persists. They picked up the bird and above the din they said “That’s the last song you’ll ever sing” . Held him down, broke his neck and taught him a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Once the sun had set and the song birds had done their job of refusing to understand, they left the cave with the crow’s blood on their beaks. They left. As they exited the cave, they began to hear the echoes of the crow’s truth. How could this be? They yelled. He is dead! We can prove it, says the birds. His body lies dead on the cold stone floor. Ah yes, echoes the cave, but his life’s essence lives on and will continue to live on. What ends in flesh ends in flesh, what continues beyond that can never end.  Hearing this, the birds began to fall from the sky. One by one they fell. But just before they could land to their deaths, the voice of the crow caught them in a net of wisdom and placed them high in the branches of a tree of higher knowledge, to their safety and happiness and fulfilment. Why do you save us although we have besieged you? They cried. But the crow, the crow only screamed. He screamed his truth through the rooftops of the song birds and the song birds also began to scream. Together they screamed louder than the crow, together their voice was like the trumpets of life, love and light. Once you see the light, you cannot deny it. It is there. Once you have seen the light, you want it and God bless, you can have it. All that you need to do is allow yourself to hear it, to listen. That’s all God wants; for you to be out of your darkness and re-member your light. He teaches you nothing, he helps you remember who you are. You are an individual soul made of light and pure perfection. You please God through your own happiness. What you feel, he feels. What you want, he too wants. Forget the past, focus on the present. For the present is the greatest gift you have. He has given your life and through your experience, you give him life.