The Crows, They Watch

[Ehati]

I am the one you never saw coming. I am the one you thought I could not be. I am the one who may die for your honor. I am the one who may almost kill me. I am the one who sees things that you never knew. I can live nine of my lives to your one. I am the one who has nothing yet everything. I am the one who can fight, fly or run. I am the one who became once as nothing. I am the one who in nothing, was all. I am the one who will never lie to you. I am the one who has no fear to fall. I am one of those who fly with the black crows. I am the mountain the sky and the earth. I am the one who knows nothing that he knows. I am one whose value is far beyond worth. I am the one who speaks softly to water. I am the one who raccoons know and love. I am the parent, the son, and the daughter. I am the black crow that circles above. I am the one who is friends with mosquitoes. I am the one who is calm in the storm. I am at one with the wasps and the shadows. I am the one who is there in the dawn. I am the bird who is one with the seasons. I am the eye of the cyclone at sea. I am the rain, and the wind, and their reasons. I am the calm in the end, finally. I am a bird who can say all of these things. I am all these things a bird could not be. I am a crow who is nothing, and all things. Knowing I am all these things, I am free. -'I am a crow' - The Crow

[Ehati]

Welcome to Ehati's scrapbook. This is a place where I will record little tidbits of information such as inspiration, traits, and habits as well as share some things that inspire me to write for her. That may include images, poetry, music, or other threads I see on Mizahar. I'll also answer questions about this character here. Name: Annabella. Yes, that Annabella. Character's Model: Judith Bedard. Inspiration: Merida from Brave; Arya and Nasuada from the Inheritance Cycle; The Catalyst by Linkin Park

[Ehati]

"Why am I black?" squawked the tatty young crow, to its mother, who foraged for insects, below. "Why are you black?" she cawed, "Well, I don't know." Which did not the young crow's question answer. "Why am I black?" squawked the growing young crow, to the croaking green frog in the pond down below. "Why are you black?" croaked the frog, "I don't know." Which did not the young crow's question answer. "Why am I black?" squawked the not so young crow, to the sunbathing cat, by the pond far below. "You can't ask me that, for cats don't talk to crows". Which did not the young crow's question answer. "Why am I black?" squawked the shiny black crow, to the crow in the pond who seemed eager to know, why it was, he was black, and who didn't yet know, Which did not either crow's question answer. "Let us visit the Shaman, and see if he's home!" So they flapped off, together, but came back alone. "Why didn't you come?" They both squawked it, as one. "We decided to go, but then you didn't come!" "And why do you squawk everything that I do?" "Can't you ever think up anything that is new?" "I think I am really more clever than you!" Which did not the two crow's questions answer. "And why, rainbow crow, do you talk to yourself?" The crow jumped, and noticed the Shaman, himself. Appearing like a spirit, with guile, and with stealth. "To which question might I have the answer?" "Tell me why I am black, if you feel that you can", squawked the crow, "I'm not happy, as black as I am!" And the Shaman just smiled, and he lifted a hand, and the crow became suddenly coloured. "It's a trick of the light," spoke the Shaman to crow. "A crow's brightly coloured, but people don't know". "Since they live in the dark, then they can't see a crow." Which almost the crow's question answered. "Why did I, think me black, for a human, I'm not", squawked the crow, to the Shaman, who almost forgot, to turn, once more, into the crow, he was not, where the crow's burning question was answered. In the pond was a crow, now so coloured and bright, sparkling, and shimmering, and pulsing with light. A thing to behold, yes, a fabulous sight, and all the crow's questions were answered. And e'er since that day, when two crows stopped to play, and a Shaman appeared, and the dark went away, only humans see crows that are black, to this day, and crows have no questions to answer. 'Why Crows are Black'- The Crow

[Ehati]

Otaki

[Ehati]

Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. 'Fire and Ice'- Robert Frost

[Ehati]

Catching up on my owed replies. Bear with me. I'm sorry for the delay. -Ehati

[Ehati]

He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove, Tell me Fair One, tell me Love; Where thou thy charming nest dost build, O thou pride of every field! She. Yonder stands a lonely tree, There I live and mourn for thee; Morning drinks my silent tear, And evening winds my sorrow bear. He. O thou summer’s harmony, I have liv’d and mourn’d for thee; Each day I mourn along the wood, And night hath heard my sorrows loud. She. Dost thou truly long for me? And am I thus sweet to thee? Sorrow now is at an end, O my Lover and my Friend! He. Come, on wings of joy we’ll fly To where my bower hangs on high; Come, and make thy calm retreat Among green leaves and blossoms sweet. 'The Birds'- William Blake

[Ehati]

The free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom The free bird thinks of another breeze an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. -'I know why the caged bird sings' - Maya Angelou

[Ehati]

It's a new year. On my way back in. HELLO, SYLIRAS. -Ehati