inspiration + perspiration = invention :: T. Edison ::
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The eagle and the raven spent many long years
flying side by side
(though it must be admitted,
the eagle took the headwind first).
All others feared them, these stately birds,
richly plumed in their enemy's blood,
victorious in battle,
mighty in claw and deed.
Till the day came when a gust of wind
blew the little raven further,
and she cawed in delight to all other fowl,
claiming her place as a right.
The eagle refused to condescend,
but lashed out with a savage shriek,
turning on his ally as on all others,
seeking to dominate.
"Don't harm me," the raven spat back,
"And I will still fly with you, but beware:
I will bow to no one, not even you,
O Great One of the Sky."
"You are nothing without me,"
the eagle replied, snarling.
"I have made you what you are,
and may crush you as I like."
"Then you may battle alone,
and never turn you back,
for I and my kin will devour you one day
as you have tried to consume us."
The raven hid away,
and the eagle waged great wars,
wishing to give none cause to doubt
his mighty prowess now.
But gradually he grew old,
with old scars never healed,
till even the foreign sparrows
drove him back to his nest.
He cried there for his losses,
pain leeching from his wounds,
and could barely muster the strength to turn
to the gust of wing at his door.
"Friend raven," he croaked,
"Are you come to comfort me?
You should have come before now,
and we might have gained the victory."
"It was not yet time," she cooed.
"We are both old now,
and I needed to make sure
you were ready for this."
With that she drove her beak into his eyes,
blinding him like Samson,
and then whispered in his ear
above his gasping sobs,
"When you reigned, I served,
when you fought, I fled,
when you lost, I waited,
and when you die, I will feast."
So remember this fatal warning readers all:
beware the eagle's pride, but still more the raven's gall.