The Bird

The air brushes across my face with a tender chill. 

The sun points to the horizon,

Its radiant fingers lay out a map before me. 

A single beam shines greater, 

Bathing my destination in a golden light. 

I march with purpose, 

Holding my head high. 

Each step feels lighter than the last. 

Like a kangaroo, I leap.

I crave speed, a craving driven by something unseen. 

Suddenly, without a thought, I’m running. 

My legs move effortlessly in a fluid motion. 

Each footfall matches the pulse of the earth. 

The ground lifts me ever so slightly as though it knows my desire. 

But then I stop; my heart sinks. 

I look ahead into the vast distance and realize I am still so far away. 

A small, disparaging sigh slips from my lips. 

My hands launch up as though to catch it,

But it’s too late. 

Motivation wells up again, 

dissipating my whispered doubt.

I won’t let despair halt my motivation. 

Out of nowhere a bird chirps. 

Its call is so mellifluous, like a distant lullaby. 

My curiosity overcomes me, 

I’m drawn in by the sound. 

I turn my gaze to search for the creature. 

In a small crevice of a shadowed bush,

Something rustles in the leaves. 

The bird calls to me again. 

Its song is a thread tied to me; 

It pulls me closer. 

I trot forward to the bird’s dark, leafy haven. 

There it is, a bird of impossible beauty. 

The bird moves swiftly, pointing its tail feathers at me. 

They shimmer in deep shades of blue which shift into magenta.

I crouch to carefully reach for a stick. 

Picking up the stick, I aim it outwards. 

I lightly touch the bird’s feathers. 

It frantically flaps its wings. 

My heart flutters, 

I’m disheartened by its alarm. 

The bird turns to face me. 

I recoil in surprise, 

My feet betray me as I fall in the soft mud beneath me. 

The bird, a creature of such beauty and mystery, 

Has no eyes. 

Still, the bird chirrups as though asking 

What’s the matter? 

Slowly, I regain balance and pull myself back up. 

I’m drawn again to the bird’s peculiar magnificence. 

The bird taps its feet, sensing the world in its own way. 

It edges closer to me. 

I lift my hand, offering it a perch. 

The bird accepts and places itself on my palm before racing up my arm. 

Its tiny feet tickle as it moves upward. 

Giggling, I use my other hand to move the bird back before my face. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper to her. 

The bird tilts its head in silent gratitude. 

The bird taps its feet again, 

Moving towards my face, 

And it rests its beak gently against my nose. 

What an affectionate creature. 

Reluctantly, I pull it away from my face again. 

I cast my gaze back to the path ahead. 

Though it now seems muted and distant by the pull of this moment.

This unexpected creature has such a grand allure.

I look at the bird, and it sings to me once more. 

A song that seems to answer my unspoken questions. 

“I think I’ll stay here for a while,” I say, 

The words tumbling out like a quiet surrender.