The Crow

"Raaackkk, raaaaack, raaack" the crow raked the air with his call, issuing a challenge to the wind, who duly responded by tearing at his foot hold and feathers. 
 "noooo...." came another moan from far below. The crow eyed the distance figure through the gnarly branches and called again.
"Raaaack, raaaaaack, raaaack" the wind re-doubled it's efforts to dislodge the bird from the high branch. All the branches bent and whipped like so many bowstrings being stretched and released in the heat of battle, but no arrow hit their mark. 
The crow was smug.

The body made a rhythmic thud against the trunk of the tree as it swayed in the wind, the beat was accompanied by the syncopated sounds of breath being beaten out, then pulled sharply in. 
The sound was hypnotic, the heartbeat joined the assemble as did the sound of blood pulsating through a swollen head, the wind, the tree and the grasses all added their accents to the grandeur of the symphony. He exulted in the death throws.

The crow intrigued, flew down from his lofty perch. He landed on the pendulum, flapping slightly as the body bumped and swung. Still he found good purchase on the chin and cocking his head on one side, looked down into the red and ragged hole that had once contained an eye.  He then looked into the remaining whole eye, there was still life in there yet even though it stared blankly at him, so he pecked at the blooded hole finding a loose morsel of flesh. 

"Raaack, raaaack, raaack." 

The call split the night and called back the Sun. The music was shattered and a thousand, million stars exploded, time and space revealed themselves and the one eye saw it all. 

The crow was startled and indignant as life returned to the promising meal, he raised iridescent wings to leave the body. But was caught by a swift hand clutching at his feet. He flapped and twisted, pecking at that one good eye which now stared back into his own black bead with full and conscious vision. 

"Calm yourself little crow" the pendulum whispered, "I have come back from the edge and you were my guide, we are bound together you and me."

"Raack?" 

The hand slipped away releasing the crow, who, both bemused and curious, flew to a low branch and watched as the body stretched out to the grassy floor below and snatched up the blood soaked, fallen twigs that were scattered beneath it.  
A scream of triumph and elation rang through the battered branches and greeted the Sun as it broke the horizon sending shafts of light across the earth.

"Raaack, raaack, raaaack" the crow chorused, and wondered what the body would do next.

 


The Crow by Cerri Lee

A story of the magic that is held within each year's first harvest.

Lughasadh Story

Hello my name is Cerri Lee

The Arts are, and always have been, my all encompassing passion. In so many ways they continue to profoundly challenge and change my perceptions of the world; but the arts walk hand in hand with the Book of Nature as my inspirers and motivators.

For those not familiar with Druidry, it is a spiritual path that takes the Book of Nature as it’s guide, the turning of the seasons, flora and fauna, the stars in the heavens, the myths, legends, folklore and archeology of Britain in particular, but also the world at large. It is about re-enchanting the landscape, reconnecting with it, in a way that is inspired by the ancients, but brought firmly into the modern age making it relevant for today.

Now if the combination of the above is not something to be inspired by, I don’t know what is?

Though I love to work with many art forms; writing and clay/ceramics are the mediums that I find give me the most spiritual expression. 

I divide my time between various artwork projects, facilitating various Druidic camps/workshops and groups, as well as being roady, driver and general assistant to my partner Damh the Bard who is a Folk musician.

cerrilee

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