The Sun lights the sky,
but it cannot enter dreams.
It cannot reach the quiet corners of a hurting heart.
So, it called upon Raven.
“You do not carry light,” said the Sun,
“but you can carry my message
to the places I cannot go.”
Raven nodded.
No blaze, no sound —
only wings through shadow,
landing at the windows of the lost and weary,
whispering:
“The light is still coming for you —
just in a quieter way.”
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