North of the tallest peaks,
In land dusted with snow,
People of the Tides met
In the night with fire aglow.
Young and old, near and far,
The kwáans from all across,
Found their way to the fire
To listen to storied love and loss.
Faces around the flame danced
As embers crackled and burst.
The elders telling epic tales
To those with knowledge-thirst.
Yet all know the Beginning,
And how the world came to be.
About the Great Spirit, the Raven,
And the greedy Gull of the sea.
For those who have not heard,
Please listen fast and listen well.
I shall speak it only once,
So that your curiosity will quell.
Please sit down here, children,
And open up your ears,
For this story is long,
Spanning a many, many years.
When the Great Spirit created
Everything you can see,
He stored them all apart
In boxes of cedar tree.
Now, each box was gifted
As the Great Spirit saw fit
To an animal of the Earth
Be it lion, whale, bird, or kit.
Fire was given to Fox,
And snow to elder Seal.
Mouse received the mountains
While seeds were gifted to Eel.
Once a box was opened,
The contained came to being.
(Mouse got a merry fright
When he saw what he was seeing.)
The world was almost perfect,
Only one thing had been missed.
It was dark and gloomy,
For light did not exist.
It had here been gifted,
Same as all the rest.
But, unlucky for all
Except a gull of the west.
One thing you understand:
The Seagull was greedy,
Kept e’rything he could find
With no pity for the needy.
And when he was given
That square box of cedar
‘Twas swept under a wing
And wasn’t moved a meter.
In the years that followed,
There reigned the night.
And the world in turmoil
Since chaos thrived without light.
However, a lone bird
With onyx feathers glossed
Took the chance it gave him
In the land of the frost.
The bird was clever Raven,
And shrewd that he was,
Blended into the darkness
Causing trouble just because.
“Trickster Raven,” they called
With much scorn in their cries.
“Stop your deceitful tricks
On all under the skies”
But sly Raven just laughed
And cackled at the thought.
But when they asked why,
“Who is to say why not?”
He pecked the toes of Lion
And escaped a meaty maw.
He stole acorns from Squirrel
And laughed a haunting caw.
He was crafty and cunning
With many a trick in his brain.
‘Twas his duty, he thought,
If chaos was to reign.
One day all the creatures
Traveled from all around
To see who locked up light
And free it from its bound.
One animal did not show
For his beak was not clean.
The covetous Seagull
And his box were not seen.
“Maybe he’s forgotten.”
“Or maybe it is lost.”
“Maybe it is gone now:
And into the sea, ‘twas tossed.”
They sent gentle Swallow,
As cousin of the Gull,
To clear the air between
And find the story whole.
When Swallow had returned,
The animals crowded ‘round.
“It’s awful,” said Swallow.
“He is truly unsound.”
She recounted her tale,
And the others were told
Of Seagull’s avarice,
His obsession with gold.
The box was underwing,
Under watch and guarded.
He would keep it forever,
And light unregarded.
Next, they sent massive Lion
To paralyze Gull with fear.
(The greedy bird only blinked,
And he drew his wing near.)
Small Grasshopper was next
For to unseal the box
But his legs were too loud.
And next they sent Fox
On, on, and on it went.
‘Til each animal tried
To open the small gift
And each time were denied.
Only one animal left
With a hist’ry of cunning:
The bird of tricks, Raven,
To him they were running.
“Trickster Raven,” they called.
(He answered with a shout.)
“Seagull hasn’t opened his box
Won’t you please help us out?”
And good Raven replied
—as all the ravens do—
With an imitative squawk
And great hullabaloo:
“Tricky, tricky Raven,
Oh, stop your tricks, please!
Oh, now we want your help!
Go say it to the breeze!”
But the animals wept
And pleaded for his aid.
Day after day they asked
Until Raven was swayed.
So with hope in their hearts
The animals watched him go,
Their own trickster Raven,
Off to let the light flow.
Sly Raven found the Gull
In a cave by the sea
Surrounded by treasures
Piled tall as can be.
“Lovely Seagull,” he called.
“Won’t you come greet your guest?
He has come to admire
Your most opulent nest.”
So Seagull flew down fast
—As prideful birds will do—
To show off his riches
In their noble debut.
“Look here, my good bird,
At the gold in my grove,
For nothing will compare
To my grand treasure trove!
Over here a necklace
And there some green emerald
And a few statuettes.
(What do they resemble?)
And this may be the last,
But may be the finest!
Here is Great Spirit’s gift
Of which I am biased!”
Raven cawed and flattered
The great covetous bird.
“What a fine collection;
Much better than I’ve heard!
Lovely Seagull,” he asked.
“If I may be indulged,
Could I hold this here box
To have beauty divulged?”
Seagull’s eyes stormed malice.
He knew he was deceived.
Raven-tales had traveled,
And gossip was believed.
“Tricky, sly trickster,
Raven, you shan’t fool me!
Mind sharp, and claws sharper!
Now, I bid you to flee!”
Raven was not deterred
On his quest to find light;
He did not bat an eye,
And he did not take flight.
“Just listen, great Seagull,
It is not what you think.
All I want is a touch
Then I’ll leave in a blink.”
But Seagull still refused
To give the box away.
Despite Raven’s begging,
Seagull’s will would not sway.
He pleaded and flattered
And demanded the gift,
Yet his tricks would not work;
Seagull’s will would not shift.
He grew in his anger;
His temper was soaring,
And since he was outraged,
Raven soon was roaring.
In his wild frustration,
Raven now grabbed a thorn
Sharpened like a dagger
And all his tact torn.
He stabbed into Seagull
All the way to the bone
With a cry and a shout
So to render foot prone.
Seagull hopped on one leg,
Almost fell to the ground,
But used wing to steady,
Dropping box from his bound.
And when that cedar box
Cracked hard on the floor,
It split fully open—
The darkness, light tore!
The great Sun, and bright moon
And some billions of stars
From the box they now flew,
And the light was now ours.
So that is the story
Of how the first day came,
And when you look around,
You will know who to blame.
Our dear clever Raven
Who loves always his tricks
Gave the animals light
Because that he could fix.
Sooner or later,
The humans came along,
Thriving under the sun
And flooding night with song.
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1 comment
A few notes that need to be said: 1) This story is from Tlingit folklore, and I mostly follow the plot of the story, 2) I take a few liberties with the characterization of Raven to fit the prompt better, and 3) RhymeZone is magnificent.
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