Dark and dismal, dark and dismal.
These were matters of the heart and they were not to be toyed with.
One blue and one white feather floating together in a lake made from the tears of Mother Earth.
The birds were gone.
Gone somewhere that only bird souls could go.
The crows sat amongst the branches cackling to each other of the truth they just witnessed.
They were the ones to turn it into a myth.
The vultures swarmed overhead, wondering when the bodies would appear.
The crows squawked to each other never taking their eyes off of the floating feathers.
"Did you see? Did you hear?"
A bluebird fell in love with a swan.
"What poppycock!"
But this was THE bluebird...the bluebird of pure happiness.
And that was THE swan....the swan of sensible being.
They fell in love when time began.
The leaves were new on the trees and the water was pure through and through.
They flew around the world sharing their love with every life.
An odd pair to see: a small fluttering bluebird with a big graceful swan.
But the common sense of receiving true happiness was a match made in Heaven.
But the world they once flew over started to change.
The leaves were brown and the water cloudy.
The bluebird's and swan's only refuge was that on the lake that Mother Earth had protected in a valley so deep.
She cried over the creation called human that had transformed into something she could not recognize anymore and formed the lake.
So there the bird lovers stayed, occasionally flying around the world trying to comfort the hurt humans bestowed upon themselves with their love;their happiness; their sense of everything.
But the hope that the bluebird and swan shone out went unnoticed after awhile.
The humans took it for granted.
They found their happiness in false things and sense disappeared.
One day, the day that the crows sat in the trees cackling about the murders they had seen, the bluebird and swan came back from a tiresome flight of hate and greed and landed in the lake to rest their tired bones.
As they swam next to each other and hid their tears of despaired hope, a giant coy of red and white jumped out of the lake and swallowed them whole.
Leaving nothing but one blue feather and one white feather.
And from the depths of the lake came a mournful voice telling those that could still hear...
"Pure happiness and a sense of being are no more in this world. Gratitude, empathy, and love are lost among you beings. You blinded yourselves. Blinded yourselves to the one pure, good thing left in the world. Now it is gone and you have to rediscover it for yourselves from within to heal the wounds you have made."
The crows cackled that day.
The vultures swarmed that day.
gossiping, lying about what they just saw and heard...until the words of the wise coy became nothing more than a whispered myth only a few wise ones remembered.
But when something once taken for granted is taken away so suddenly, one will began to notice the difference and tell someone else and so on and so on until it becomes only a matter of time before everyone begins to yearn for what was lost.
They will try to find it...again.
Then, maybe, Mother Nature won't cry anymore.
