The Progenitor

Believed to have been there in the beginning,
beating wings carried fire down to earth. Feathers
white, once pure as snow charred black by smoke to
give us light and warmth. Treacherous deeds put to
good use, stealing from pompous deities and redistributing
their wealth. Streams of water coveted by
the ones above, their weight carried in your beaks
and spread around the earth with every drop that
escaped. Your black feathers a testament of your aid
in creation.