When Raven was a little bird his wing was torn apart and his world was broken in two. He never felt the sorrow of his life for this is all he knew. Raven found himself low upon the ground sometimes almost able to fly but never quite getting there, never finding the right size wing. Raven didn’t mind; for upon his walks he gathered small wings thinking he could give them to others so they would not have to walk so far. He learned that not all wings are created equal. Raven carried these small wings far below the eyes of the Wing Thief. The Thief liked to hand out big, heavy, bulky, glorious wings to those he hoped to drown. Raven tried to hand them smaller less glorious wings so that others could soar instead.

One day Raven found his wing and he began to soar. He told himself I will fly from here never to return as he felt the crisp air flutter thru his strong and glorious wings. He now had two of the most powerful wings, when he heard the familiar cries of deep sorrow that could only mean one thing. Someone was about to lose both their wings never to return. Raven knew this sound for he had heard it once before, it's the sound of a soul that has been pierced to the core about to lose its fight. Raven did not hesitate or even slow his pace. He turned around and knew what had to be done. He flew with all his speed and all his love and all that his new wing would give and he dove into the pain knowing he would lose his wings forever. And in doing that Raven earned his wings of a different sort. His gift saved the heart of another. Hurt hearts hear hurt hearts. Thank you for saving me. I miss your face.

from my creative sister