i still write in my tribe blog, look at this moment with me
as i drove and my mind slipped into thought my eyes watched helplessly as my car careened into a sudden streak
of magpie- a jubilant, emerging from a roadside tree
flying low across the road my magpie friend- for i regard all magpies as friends, and i felt a moment of recognition before steel struck bird
a moment of connection with this soul's destiny careening with my car's trajectory and bam! a wet thud broke my heart as it must have broken this bird body irreperably and i pulled over and walked back and sat, singing, to the slumped bird that barely made it out of the road on the other side where it lay belly down, tail open, one wing open and covering it's red-top head with it's black and white spot shield, it's head tucked into the comfort of its own darkness, and i sang a rainbow song sistren's ballad in soprano "sweet soul, your journey's just begun... sweet lover of the light your time has come... on the wave of the heart the white bird flies... from life to life she rides a wind, never born and never dies."
my friend gasped at breath with each heartbeat, which moved its whole body and it began to sound the death song with each exhale, slowly from feeble moaned melodic sounds as i first began to sing, and then a quiet stillness as it seemed to drift between the realms of recovery and death and i knew not what path it may choose... seeing the extent of its injury and knowing survival meant pain, i prayed for the most high path for the soul of the bird to be at peace... and our magpie began to move, life force emitting in waves with each exhale, at first only audible as air heaved thru the tiny lungs. then the bird's beak emerged from beneath its wing and began to sing, and slowly the magie with many deep breaths heaved itself by rocking sound thru its body with each heartbeat, a song that brought me to tears as i sang open a gateway to the light and the golden thread beyond its bodily life. its delicate head rolled heavy around toward the direction of my voice and of the west, the setting sun as it came to rest in a much more natural position on its belly with its wings at its sides, and just in its last sounding before it found center, a tail feather tucked out of its tail as a gift for me to carry onward as its medicine, a small testament to my bearing witness to raw life force energy sounding a primal pulse thru the messenger of the bird tribe to remind i of the gift of life.