the crow and the pitcher

in the depths of the forest far away from human eyes
there was a crow named Corvo who had a pair of bright
perceptive
eyes that could spot the mysteries of nature
corval grew up in this forest
a place where
nature taught everyone not to follow the old
path and to adapt to changes
one day corval faced a grave crisis
his home once a vibrant forest was drying up
the streams and springs
that used to flow under the shadows of the
trees had turned into depressed stone beds
with only a few droplets reflecting their former
gurbun sorrow
to survive Corville had to find a water source
he soared high
staring at the yellow barren land beneath him
looking for a hint of life
finally towards the sunset
he spotted a clay pitcher
with some residual water on the rim
this was a ray of hope
but the depth of the picture posed a desperate trap
Corvo's beak was not long enough to reach the water
while continuously pondering an idea hit him
corval figured that
if he could drop stones into the picture
the water level might rise
so he started searching for suitable stones
facing the scorching wind
he brought back pebbles one by one
with each stone he dropped
the water level rose noticeably
but it was still unreachable for him
as he strived to survive and overcome this challenge
he did not falter by the decline of rewarding work
every time he collected a stone
he held it tighter
looking at it as the hope of his life