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| photo courtesy of peter myska via www.vivanatura.org |
She comes when I need her, her gentle cooing reconnecting me
with the softness in myself. I didn’t know I wasn’t breathing deeply. I didn’t
know I had put new layers upon myself. I didn’t know the world was hurting me,
squelching my sacred song. Until she came. To remind me.
Her feathers are green, or are they blue, and is that
yellow, too? I can see her heart beating, feel her beautiful vulnerability from afar, for
she is so very much alive, so very much filled with her own sacred song.
Does she still visit while I am away? Will she wonder where
I am? Or does she already know? Does she send her sisters of the North to visit
me here, on my new island home? Yes, I think she does. And to honor the gifts
she has given me, I will feed the birds…honor our sacred gifts of song.
* * *
May the birds you see this week remind you of your own gift
of song and may you realize that you are the only one on this earth that can
sing your own sacred song.
A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer.
It sings because it has a song.
--Maya Angelo
8 comments:
What a lovely reminder of our own individuality. One must ask oneself to celebrate our own drum beat more often. What joy to sing your own song with pride not concerned of what others perceive. May birdsongs abound us with their beauty. Thank you for such a wonderful vision.
Darling, I too forgot that I wasn't breathing deeply.
And thank you for such a lovely comment, dear soul. Your song..your song...may you share your magic with the world as only you can do...:)
My dear, dear Betty...the smile on my heart just grew because of you. Did you feel that hug?
Beautiful share my dear friend! I have loved birds since I was physically a child. I say physically, because I remain a child mentally, having never lost my love of birds.
It's fun and interesting. You posted this wonderful ode to the free bird within us all, Jo wrote recently about the birds along her favorite walk. I woke up last night, with a feeling of panic or apprehension for some reason. I was not worried, but though it was the dead of night, I knew I must get out of bed.
Whenever I can't sleep, I toss the covers from me, careful not to wake the slumbering cats, then climb out of bed and up to the pilothouse. I did so last night. It's calm and quiet at 4:00AM, and I can look out over the marina, boats and people slumbering till dawn.
Standing there, I was mesmerized by a Great Blue Heron, standing on the dock, fishing in the mirrored waters. The moon was full and low, casting long shadows on the water and on my Pirate ship. I gazed and enjoyed the moment for some time, before going back to bed.
It was too early to turn my computer on, so I opened my iPad and wrote Heron and Moon, sending it to my self as an email, so I wouldn't forget the words. I posted it this evening. This is such a harmonious pod to belong to, we three peas tend to think alike. I like that. :-)
I love being in my pod with you two sweet peas:) And what JOY it gave me to travel into your world, to feel the emotions and sense the feelings of your night time magic. Thank you, my dear friend, for giving my world a sparkle that only you could.:)
I came here to get my comfort from your words Brynne...and I did. But then doubly I was soothed by John's. And as the pod closed around me I felt safe, cherished, understood.
Ohhh, my dear Jo...you are so safe in your pod with us. And you are cherished and understood, and Jo? You are also loved.
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