Sunday, February 9, 2014

A Dream of Birds

I wander over the ways, while all around me people turn the rich ochre soil, planting row upon row of new young trees with the greatest care and attention. I walk on, leaving the silently-absorbed people behind me still busy with their devoted task. Now I notice something lying on the ground ahead of me: a large and apparently lifeless young female bird with its neck bent in a strange, unnatural curve.

Next to this creature is a second bird, evidently a larger female, for she is giving birth while standing, splaying her legs as a giraffe does – and also like a giraffe, but certainly not like a bird, she is giving birth, not to an egg, but to a live young one. The new-born baby bird drops to the ground next to the first, who until now has remained unmoving. As if sensing the presence of the new-born next to her, the first bird now suddenly comes to life. She shakes her head, shakes her feathers, straightens her neck, rises up to stand on her two legs, and begins to prod the baby with her beak, encouraging it to do the same.

Seeing this, and apparently aware that her own task is now fulfilled, the mother trots away, the splendid radiance of her iridescent feathers leaving a trail of rainbows in her wake. The new-born and the one now standing over it, who seems to be barely older, also have this same radiant plumage. Lapis blues, turquoises, even raven-blacks: all are shining with the brilliance of butterflies’ wings. 

My feet carry me onwards, as if I am forbidden to linger for too long at any one place. Perhaps that is so, for footsteps are always footsteps in time, and the way we see things now is not as they will appear to us tomorrow, or as they seemed yesterday. And so I leave the two birds behind me, with the new-born still being encouraged to stand by her companion, her identical other.

Did the new-born also manage to struggle to her feet? I am sure that she did. The struggle to stand up is inherent, instinctual. We make the effort even though it is so much easier simply to stay lying on the ground. Farther behind me, new trees are already growing. And I who must walk on, follow the path which the mother has taken, walking in the trail of rainbows which she has left for me to follow. 

  Search for the Soul by Kamil Vojnar


  1. Your writing is so potent and gorgeous and always pulls me right in, toward a beautiful space within..unable to describe it fully...but I leave changed and transformed and more awake..such are magnificent! this was beautiful!

  2. Dear Victoria, your response touches my heart of hearts..

  3. This is indeed beautifully written with such rich and amazing imagery. Within the story of the dream there appears to be strong symbols of new life and growth - the planting of the young trees, and of course, the dream's startling climax of the birth of a live bird. I like the line, "... for footsteps are always footsteps in time, and the way we see things now is not as they will appear to us tomorrow, or as they seemed yesterday" as it expresses well the fact that all things change in time, including our perspective. In this particular dream there appears to be an unexpected new beginning and the promise of future growth.

  4. Joseph, yes - I feel myself that this is a story of new beginnings, and that those beginnings always bring change of some kind. In that sense (and in spite of the well-known saying about it!) time always is on our side, in that it brings changes with it - sooner or later.

  5. Nou hoop ik dat het lukt. Om te reageren alhier. Ik ga de tekst nog laten bezinken want er zit teveel in om ineens te begrijpen voor mij. Ik was net als Joseph wel direct gepakt door dezelfde alinea. Prachtig hoor lieve schat. En wat is je engels strak zeg! dikke kus van je vijfde kind

  6. Hé, lief Anonimuisje, wat fijn dat je de weg hier naartoe gevonden hebt! En laat het maar lekker bezinken allemaal, ben sowieso blij met je reactie. Veel liefs en dikke zoen x