The sun rose in the west that day,
Though some say it did not.
It rose above the quiet valley village
And it rose above the mountains
That encircled it.
The dark birds watched it rise too;
While newly alighting upon the entrance gate.
The villagers squinted at it,
But could not be for certain.
Was this finally it?
Had their time inevitably come?
Then it began to descend upon the village.
The inhabitants were paralyzed by the sight.
They were paralyzed by that
Strange wind that came from it.
As it got closer, the dark birds ruffled their
Feathers and the people focused their eyes.
It became people.
They walked forwards but talked backward.
The villagers stared at them eyes unseeing.
The strange wind from earlier had intensified
With their intimate arrival.
However, the inhabitants were inexorable
And unwilling to inhibit the strangers’ march.
Then the wind suddenly subsided and the villager’s
Paralysis was slowly exonerated.
They wept and approached the benevolent
Strangers with praise and open arms.
The birds flew onward;
No longer did they have a place
In that echoing valley village.