The Dove and The Hawk

Below is my adaptation of a very old story.

———————————————————————

A dove sat alone in the shade of a large willow tree, enjoying the wonders of the present moment: a breeze through its feathers, the blue of the sky reflected off its solid black eyes and the solidity of the ground it was resting upon.

A hawk was soaring by and upon seeing the dove landed on a branch of the willow, filled with rage for the hawk despised doves.

The hawk started berating the dove with sharp words, yelling of how weak dove was and how it should leave the land they shared.

And the dove sat.

This infuriated the hawk, and it started flapping its wings madly, and screeching at the dove.

And the dove sat.

Completely consumed with rage, the hawk lunged at the dove, talons coming within inches of the doves heart.

And the dove sat.

This continued for some time, and eventually the hawk grew tired, landed back on the branch, silent except for its short shallow breaths.

Then the dove spoke:

“If you are offered a gift, and accept it, who possesses the gift?”

“What a ridiculous question, doves really are the lowest form of intlligence. The gift belongs to whom it was offered to” said the hawk, thru labored breath.

“And if you are offered a gift, and refuse it, who does the gift belong to?” the dove asked, with a slight grin upon its beak.

“I grow tired of you, I should have snatched your heart out you tiny chest rather than listen to this drivel” the hawk belted. “The gift belongs to the one who has offered it.”

The dove looked the hawk in the eye with a calm intensity.

“Then I offer you the gift of love and compassion, and as for your gift of hate, I kindly decline.”

And so the dove sat in peace, under the willow, enjoying the gift of love the hawk had rejected, and the hawk flew away, exhausted, with the anger and hate it had offered as a close companion.