thirteen ravens
I want to believe that there is goodness in the world. I want to believe that compassion, love, forgiveness, nurturing and peace rule above all else. I want to believe that humans are innately kind, gentle and wish to share love with each other. I want to believe that there is happiness to be had by everyone. I want to believe that hate, greed, jealousy, rancor and all things horrible are fiction or at least a thing of the distant past. I want to believe in friendship. I want to believe in so many things.
Surely you can understand my skepticism.
I want to believe… but I simply cannot. Not in fantasy, fiction or delusion.
Thirteen ravens once stood outside my door. They were not there as signs from the gods. They did not bring me secret messages from beyond the grave. They were not there to remind me of the ways of the world, or to foretell the death of a loved one. They were simply scavenging the remains of a jackrabbit who found misfortune not far from my home. There actually isn’t much mystery in the world. ‘There isn’t much you can’t come to expect.’
If you just open your eyes and see.
