Coming and Going

The way they leave

Tells you

Everything

About who they are

This is true.

I do not know who said it, but it is true.

It is, however, incomplete.

Did they ghost you and fade away? Was there a simple text declaring in a cowardly way that they were now breaking your heart? Was it in person? Were they crying before you realized what was happening? Was it clear that this was forever? Did they hate that they were going away? Are they promising to come back?

So if leaving tells you everything…

What about their arrival?

Do they ride in slinging fist fulls of cheer when you need it the most?

Are they suddenly hatching schemes to slay your demons for you?

Is the night suddenly fading with the sunrise they carry with them?

Are they a relentless hurricane pounding at your lonesome shores?

Can you feel they are picking up your pieces, making you whole again and ensuring you are stronger than ever?

Do you feel that you needed them before you ever knew they existed?

Are they the light on the door guiding you home through the storm?

Can you feel how they don’t want anything other than to see you rise up from your grave to take life by the throat?

Tell me…

What does their arrival tell you?

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Raven Steals the Sun


Many, many years ago the world was covered in darkness. There was no warmth, only a constant sense of damp coldness.
The sun did not hang high in the sky. There were no flames and there was no relief from the black ink that smothered the world.
The people of the Earth were miserable in the cold and darkness. They could not see and would lose their way. They would become hopelessly lost and most spent their lives alone, unable to find others and drenched in sadness.
The white raven could see better than most in the shadowy days and nights. Through the murkiness he flew. He wailed from the sadness of the people he found alone.
But then one day, he found a old man who was never sad at all.
The raven watched him and longed to discover how this man managed to never be filled with despair.
After many days he saw the man quietly open a metal box in his hut. As the lid was raised, a blinding light poured out. With a set of metal tongs the man pulled a yellow, glowing ball from the box and the hut was drenched in light. Colors the raven had never seen were suddenly alive. The hut was no longer cold but filled with warmth.
The old man laughed and smiled and played with the glowing ball.
“Now,” the old man said. “I will put you away my little sun for you are mine and I will not share you nor the joy you contain.”
The raven was clever and knew what to do.
He waited for the old man to turn his back. Then the raven flew into the hut, opened the box and pulled the sun out with his beak.
The old man screamed and threw rocks at the raven. The raven was brave. The raven stole the sun.
He flew from the hut and the light and the warmth spilled across the world.
Higher and higher he flew. The sun’s flames scorched his beautiful white feathers until they turned a somber shade of black.
Surely, the raven would die if he went any higher.
But he kept flying. He would not stop.
His wings gave out.
He released the sun.
He fell to the earth.
He was no more.
But the sun is still there.
A gift, stolen by the raven to light the world and rid it of its darkness and misery.