Old Crow and the Invisible Crow

Copyright, Terry Turner, 2009



Old Crow flew down to inspect my newly displayed
flag.

"War!" he cawed, "War!"

Young Crow landed by him and loudly barked "War! War!
War!"

Limping Crow barked from a nearby tree, then flew down
joining the other crows on the sign post which
supported my flag.

Mostly they stared at the flag and occasionally glared
at me --- they still are not sure that I fully
acknowledge their ownership of the territory
hereabouts.

Finally Young Crow, weary of the unfamiliar war word,
asked, "What is war anyway?

"War!" cried the old crow, "War!" then he shuffled out,
tenuously, from the sturdy sign post to the more
fragile flag pole and, seeing that the thin pole
did not fail him or the flag, he settled down over the
field of blue to have a good luck at the stars. Old Crow
had lived long enough to know that many things are
edible which may not seem so on first inspection.

"War," he finally replied, "war is a bloody human game.
When they play war there is plenty for crows to eat.
Here in these very mountains my great, great,
grandfather once feasted on an Indian chief for a whole
winter. The humans often have given us such sacrifices
and they like killing it seems."

"War! War," the crows cried in unison, "War!"

Young Crow said, "I have never seen a war. Why war
they?"

Crippled Crow barked. "The human fools do not believe
in one God. They believe in many Gods. Fools, they!
Fools who do not yet know of the Great Crow, the
only God. Being ignorant of the Great Crow, humans
fight and die."

"Die?, Die," the word seemed to shock Young Crow, "die.

What is it to die like they do?"

"You can never know that, " said Old Crow, "they die,
but we crow live forever! When we crow grow old, we
become thin and flat, but we never die, we just slowly
disappear. But war, ah war, war will keep all crow nice
and fat!"

"War! War! War!, Bloody war!" they cried, "Bloody war!"

Old Crow, found the bright white stars inedible.

He flew away, looking for something to keep him nice
and fat, After all, being an old crow, he knew that
neither he nor any crow within his long memory had
ever spoken with an invisible crow. For that reason he
wanted to remain nice and fat.

Note: I wrote the original of this in Taos, NM September ’01