When Wrens Grieve…

A little blue bird

Opens his heart and sings

Until the sky shatters

And pieces of blue fall to the earth.

 

 

He sings right up to the last moment.   Because for him, the moment is all there is.   It is immediate, it is present, it is now.  It is the breath upon your lips, the very life blood in your veins and the beat of your heart.

He opens his heart and channels his very soul out into the world.

That’s what blue birds do.   They give of their joy, without limitation, without fear, without expectation.   They just open up their hearts and immerse everything around them in pure celebration of the moment.

A little bird sings

A song that pierces my heart

And lets the blue within me fly free.

When you stand close to a blue bird who is performing such a ritual, you can feel it – the vibrations of the song, and the energy that gives it such power, reverberates through you, and you cannot fail to be moved in some way, great or small.  You feel that song, that melody, that joy, push through you and light up your cells.   It is a celebration.  You resonate! That is the magic of the blue birds.   They lift vibrations, they sing frequencies that touch and heal and weave magic.

It is a public display of life, of the pure, sweet being in the moment.

It is a reminder to each of us.

It is sweet, and sacred, and loud and undeniable.   Listen!   Feel!  Be!

A little blue bird

Gives my creativity wings

And my imagination explodes

With new colours to paint the world.

Yet there is more, so much more.   There is the moment tiny claws connect and wrap around your fingers, and something passes between you, something deeper than trust, something that you share with all life, but have long since forgotten.

So you awaken just a little more.

Then you have the moment when across and open field a wild bird flies straight at you, with the sole intent of connecting, and landing on or near your person, then hops merrily up your arm to your shoulder, just to get a little closer.   There is humour, there is mischief, there is life.   You look in that bright eye, that misses nothing, the head cocked first one way, then another, and even more passes between you – a connection as ancient as life itself…. A recognition of shared existence and mutual honour for the Earth Mother who gave birth to us all.

I always believed the winged ones were messengers, and this little blue bird, he came looking for me.  He had a message for me, a message he asked me to share with the world.  It just took me a while to “get it”.   I thought he was a gift, too amazing to be real, and at times, my fear of loss kept me stumbling around, even as I learned the only way to receive the gifts of the universe, is with an open hand, so they can fly freely.   And when I let go of any need to own or hold onto, he truly blessed me with wings of my own, so I could share the flight.  He showed me how to deal with loss a few weeks ago, and to let go of my fear.   In  bundle of little blue feathers, that had my heart scrabbling with pain, at first for him, and then, when he flew up to show me he was still there, for sadness at the anonymous little blue person who had died, he taught me that endings were always a part of the song, but only so a new melody could begin.  He delivered to me the lesson of cycles, of beginnings and endings, and the pure free flight between.   He gifted me an ongoing joy into my garden, both the literal one, and the true one within my soul.

He also came to say goodbye.

At first I laughed at my strange dream on Tuesday morning.   And wanted to forget and not share it.   But it was one of the prophetic dreams I have and recognize from time to time.  It unsettled me, and it’s message stayed, gaining depth and power instead of ebbing away.   It was a message of love.  This little blue bird, he sat with me and the message passed between us.   “I see you” he said wordlessly.   “I see you” my heart shared back to him.   Then he rubbed the top of his head back and forth on my lips, like a beloved pet would rub your hand or leg,  the most unusual kiss of a soulmate.

And was gone.

I awoke thinking “how bizarre”.  But could not escape the surge of unconditional love that was all around me from that moment, and the awareness of which has remained firmly with me every since.
And I went out to face the day – a day where he was absent.
And then the next day – he was still missing.

And then the profound realization, that the dream had been a goodbye from my little friend, because this little blue bird has disappeared and now exists only in my heart, my dreams and my images.

Today they go on as if nothing has changed.  The landscape is full of life, and yet it has a hole in it.  My heart feels heavy because I know that something is missing.  There are other wrens alive and well singing in the trees around my home.   There is a family still there and a little blue son to keep the songline unbroken.

How do blue wrens grieve?   No matter what happens, what loss they suffer, they just pick up the pieces of their life and rebuild their broken nest, go on with their day to day duties, and all the while, they sing.   Most of all – they SING!   They sing like there is no tomorrow and this very moment is the most joyful gift to be shared with the world.  They do not weep but declare their joy at being alive.    They pick up the pieces of a melody and stitch them together in a new way…. And … They sing.  If we could only sing like that when our hearts were broken!

AS the days pass, I watch little Henny frantically rebuild her nest and her life, while nurturing her juvenile son on her own.   I wished there was more I could do to protect and assist her, but alas, within days, she too, tragically disappeared, with only a few feathers and a small broken blue egg left on the ground.   My heart was filled with sadness for the little bluey left behind, hiding in the branches, afraid, his life totally torn apart.   Yet even though he was very nervous and afraid, he would still hold onto the one constant thing he knew, and that was to fly to my hand and sit for a moment.  Perhaps he was oblivious, but I felt he sensed my grief and it matched his own bewilderment and uncertainty.

But within a day, I awoke to hear him singing his heart out as the sun arose.   When I went outside he was merrily dancing in the trees, entertaining a new girlfriend, both of them singing their song of life unfolding, of the mystery of goodbyes spelling new beginnings….
Life goes on….. and all that matters is the moment and how much love and song you can fill it with.

I can cry because it’s over, or I can laugh because it happened, or, I could do both.   Because you can’t have one without the other, you cannot know such joy unless sorrow carves a cavern in the darkness that will be backdrop to enhance the light, an amphitheatre to contain and measure the exquisite wonder of life’s grandest performances.

How can I truly appreciate and honour the presence and awareness of one’s gift to me, unless I experience the absence and subsequent emptiness without it also.

So I give thanks in these words, for the gift brought to me by a little blue bird.

A little blue bird

Cracks open a sad day

With a song that weaves

It back together anew.

   

For those who are interested….Blue Boy has his own facebook fan page at
https://www.facebook.com/BLUE.wrens

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