Summoning The Crows


Maybe you do too, but I have days firmly in a dark place. I wake up that way. The writing goes poorly, or I say something I regret, or the news of the world has me down. Maybe Prince Happy keeps telling me how life is good, but I’m still feeling like the man in black. With all the light I have, still the shadow looms.

I know the playbook. Get mindful and meditative. Savor, savor, savor. Explore my feelings and what might be fertilizing them. Get out of my head and do something nice. Talk it out with someone close to me. Exercise. Go outside. Etc.

Sometimes I try one of these tricks and the blackness grays up enough. Just as often, I don’t put up a fight. I let the darkness in. It has its say. There is nothing wrong with darkness, I tell myself. We couldn’t see stars if the night weren’t black. Yin desperately needs Yang. Without the heart of darkness, there wouldn’t be great literature.

If things ever start getting out of hand, I summon my two crow friends. They alight on the branch on the maple out front. One, followed a few seconds later by the other. No announcing. Landing and hanging and watching. Me watching them. Feathers super black and glossy. They are a fine couple. They talk to each other and then turn to me. They tell me I’m all right.

By David Klein

David Klein

Published novelist, creative writer, journalist, avid reader, discriminating screen watcher.


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