Little Birdie

I remember it as if it were yesterday, or was it perhaps just then? It was around this very time at night and unseasonably cold, much like now. Ah, deja vu, it appears to have found me! But this is neither here nor there. I have a tale to tell and so I shall tell it.

I'd been tossing and turning all night, as I tend to do, when I heard a sound that sounded like nails lightly scraping my window. At first, I dismissed it as a branch from our old tree blowing in the wind. But, the sound just kept on going, rather insistently. After a few minutes of listening, it grew louder and it sounded, well annoyed. So, I got up to investigate the noise. As I pulled the blinds up, I saw the most gorgeous snow white owl sitting on the windowsill. Her eyes were closed, but then suddenly they flew open and I couldn't help but gasp. Her eyes were a startling blood red, but though my initial reaction was of shock, I found myself captivated once I stared into them. Her eyes seemed, well, sad. One would generally associate red with anger or being evil, but this creature was neither.

I found myself opening the window, wondered if perhaps she might venture in. After I opened it, I stepped back to show her I wasn't going to hurt her. She cocked her head to the right and looked intently at me for what seemed like hours, but I think it was perhaps only a few minutes. She came closer and then looked around the room a moment, paused to look at me again, with a question in her eyes. She seemed to be asking if it was alright for her to come in, I nodded and she flew into my room. Once she rested on my desk, I went over to my bed to sit down. She cooed and then flew to the edge of my bed. Curiously, I held my hand out to see how she'd react. She did nothing, just stared at me.

We sat there for awhile, just looking at each other. She was such an amazing creature, one couldn't help but be held captivated by her presence. I saw so much emotion in those red eyes, of hurt, wisdom, sadness. I wanted to help her, but didn't know how. Out loud, I said to her,

"Little birdie, you look so sad

And I'd take it away if I could, I'd give all I had

You're free, but you seem caged

And your pain makes me feel enraged

I want to set you free

Little birdie, do you see

Fly, fly away

Find freedom, somehow, some way

Soar way up high

Let your wings feel the joy in the sky...."

She started to cry, her tears were a lighter red than her eyes. It too, upon my initial reaction shocked me...but then just froze me where I sat in total amazement. I again reached out my hand, feeling so broken by her pain. She came closer and nudged her head against my hand. I ran my hand along her silky smooth feathers for awhile. She cooed softly and then suddenly, she flew out the window.

I never forgot that night, though I never saw her again. I don't know what to make of her to this day and I wish more than anything that I knew what had caused her such pain. I think of her often and hope that she has found the peace she was seeking. I will say this, I am glad she came to me that night. I myself had been struggling with much turmoil, but after meeting her, I found myself able to heal and to sleep once more. Perhaps this is why she came to me? Did she know my pain? Did she know my secret scars? I may never know, but I thank you, my fine friend and wish you love, joy, & peace in the end.