I sat outside with my morning cup of coffee and listened to the ravens discourse. The crisp clarity of the morning air carried their conversation from tree to tree.
It seemed that all the answers to everything were held in the ambience of the guttural exchange being conducted for my cloudy senses. I felt like a stranger at a party of strangers. Everyone knew something that I had no knowledge of, and all I could do was listen and smile unknowingly, appreciative just to be in the company of those so connected.
Like an itinerant in a foreign land, I knew that everything was beyond my understanding. All I could do was take things in, and hope for some insight to my own lands upon my return home. I wondered where home might be.
- The Fool
- illustration by Michael Martine