The solitary bird
Nov. 21, 2001
"The condition[s] of a solitary bird are five. First, that it point(s) its beak skyward. Second, that it (flies) to the highest point. Third, it (does) not suffer for company; not even (for) its own kind. Fourth, that it sing(s) very softly. Lastly, that it has no definite color."
To experience true love is probably the best feeling in the world. Some describe a feeling akin to having butterflies fluttering inside one’s stomach, the constant smell of the sweetest flowers, being sure that life is wonderful, that you are safe and that everything will be alright. Many have sworn to this. And many more will swear; but sadly, promises are knowingly broken and love oaths become loathing.
And so a few ‘solitary birds’ exist -- they who cannot see love as anything other than extraordinary. To them, love can never be contained, limited, degraded by human frailty and base desires. In this quest, they may opt to seek their ideals alone, often with little or no fanfare. And there is no distinguishing them from other birds for there is no one type of solitary bird.
But alas, their flights are visited by pain and exhaustion. They are strong and are able to fly very long distances without stopping to land and rest. (This helps develop their endurance, ironically) But they would have to land somewhere, sometime, especially when fierce winds blow on every side. They on occasion just glide above clouds and sometimes are still, surveying the peaks worth flying to next.
the solitary bird (ee cummings)
It's soft and clear.
True love harkens yet is out of reach.
Still.
"The condition[s] of a solitary bird are five. First, that it point(s) its beak skyward. Second, that it (flies) to the highest point. Third, it (does) not suffer for company; not even (for) its own kind. Fourth, that it sing(s) very softly. Lastly, that it has no definite color."
To experience true love is probably the best feeling in the world. Some describe a feeling akin to having butterflies fluttering inside one’s stomach, the constant smell of the sweetest flowers, being sure that life is wonderful, that you are safe and that everything will be alright. Many have sworn to this. And many more will swear; but sadly, promises are knowingly broken and love oaths become loathing.
And so a few ‘solitary birds’ exist -- they who cannot see love as anything other than extraordinary. To them, love can never be contained, limited, degraded by human frailty and base desires. In this quest, they may opt to seek their ideals alone, often with little or no fanfare. And there is no distinguishing them from other birds for there is no one type of solitary bird.
But alas, their flights are visited by pain and exhaustion. They are strong and are able to fly very long distances without stopping to land and rest. (This helps develop their endurance, ironically) But they would have to land somewhere, sometime, especially when fierce winds blow on every side. They on occasion just glide above clouds and sometimes are still, surveying the peaks worth flying to next.
the solitary bird (ee cummings)
it may not always be so; and i say that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch his heart, as mine in time not far away; if on another's face your sweet hair lay in such a silence as i know, or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch, stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be, i say if this should be- you of my heart, send me a little word; that i may go unto him, and take his hands, saying, Accept all happiness from me. Then shall i turn my face, and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
It's soft and clear.
True love harkens yet is out of reach.
Still.
Labels: A musing
posted by jaybeecc @ Saturday, May 13, 2006
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