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