The T Uncrossed
Prelude to the chapter The Birth of Evil, Sanity’s Battle Lost in the novel, Through the Kindness of Ravens
An intersection lay before me
A three-way, form of a T
To go straight or to turn left
The decision now before me
To go straight would cross both
The intersection and the T
To go left, as in left field
Ironically, the normal inclination for me
As I contemplate
Which tine in the road’s fork
Strikes my palate and plate
Ultimately decides my fate
I soak in the warmth
Of a late summer day
And to my left
Endless fields of gold
Kissed by the sun along its way
Semblance texture of squirrel jacket
They are fields of wheat
From which we feed
And from the corner closest me
There rests a bird on tallest reed
Apparently not without reason
As I find its stare directed at me
Not coincidence, but quite intentionally
Then suddenly it does
The strangest thing
It offers to take me
Under its wing
To teach me things
About the early bird
To help me fly straight
He gave me his word
Though it seemed
A trusting soul
That is, until
His wings did unfold
For it was then
That, truth be told
I chose left turn
Toward fields of gold
Prior, I would have followed
Flown straight alongside the crop
Till the red signs on his wings
Directed me to stop
A mile-marker bird revealed
Now he must learn
My fate now sealed
But I am only the first victim
Of this left turn
For down this path against the grain
Begins the war for sanity’s gain
