07/29/2025
The Raven Spirit That Flies Through Time and Destiny
Where Shadows Whisper and Stars Remember
Long before the rivers carved their names into the earth,
before fire knew the song of wood and stone,
there was a raven —
not a bird of flesh and feather,
but a spirit born from the breath of the First Dreamer.
The elders call it Tsa’la,
the one who flies not through sky,
but through Time.
Tsa’la was there when the world was only mist and memory.
It flew through the smoke of old fires,
through the heartbeat of drums echoing in sacred caves,
through the tears of women burying warriors,
through the laughter of children under full moonlight.
It carried stories between generations,
and secrets between the living and the dead.
To the people, Raven is no mere bird.
It is the keeper of fate’s threads,
the trickster who sees what cannot be seen,
the guide who dances between death and rebirth.
When a child is born under an eclipse,
the elders say Raven leaves a feather in their soul —
a sign that they are dream-walkers,
those who hear the voice of the unseen.
And when someone is lost in sorrow,
Raven appears in silence,
perching not on branches, but on thoughts,
reminding them that even shadows hold wisdom.
"Time is not a straight path," the old shaman would whisper.
"It spirals like the raven’s flight —
circling the past, dipping into the now,
rising into what will be."
And so, to this day,
when the wind turns strange and cold,
and the crows scatter from the trees in stillness —
the people lift their eyes,
not in fear,
but in reverence.
For they know:
The Raven Spirit is passing.
Carrying dreams.
Carrying destinies.
Carrying pieces of them
across the thresholds of time.
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