The Bird

There was once a bird with splendid black wings. It flew
where there were no days or nights. It flew without rest. It knew
nothing of the restrictions of time. It knew not fear.


Nor did it know how beautiful its face was. It was
aware only of the power of its great wings. The only reality for
the bird was its endless flight.


All of a sudden (and nothing happens in eternity but is
sudden) a solitary light ray entered the darkness, moved swiftly
to the bird, and gently touched an eyelid. The bird blinked in
surprise and the forward ray at once entered the eye.


"Who are you, and what are you doing in my eye?" was the
question the bird wanted to ask. But it felt so wonderful to have
the ray inside its eye that instead the bird welcomed the alien in
silence, and became motionless.


The gallant ray, after dazzling both eyes, started to stroke
and kiss the bird's beautiful face.


"Oh! How beautiful my face is!" exclaimed the bird.


"For the longest time, I have seen dark emptiness and your
face is the fairer for it. But by the light of a million galaxies,"
said the passionate ray, "I have never seen a face so divine
and never will."


"Stay here, won't you? Please do."


The ray agreed, for it was truly infatuated with the beautiful
face.


So the bird started to fly once again, carrying the ray with
itself. The ray would talk on and on of its world (the bird had
nothing to say, really). Sometimes the bird would close an eye, hold in
part of the ray and let the rest kiss its face. Otherwise they
would fly together in silence.


Then the bird told the ray:


"I want to see the world you talk so much of."


The ray was sad. It wanted the bird to always fly here. Now
that it was causing the bird to forsake this world, the ray
regretted its intrusion.


Sorrowfully, the ray guided the bird out of its timeless
existence. As they crossed over to mortality, the bird was stunned
by a plethora of light and color - and birds. So many of them below
itself, but not one with as perfect a face as its own. Brilliant beams
of light darted upwards to the bird, courting its beautiful face,
and enticing it to come away with them.


Down went the bird, revelling in light as it had revelled
in darkness, glowing in the praise of its suitors who marvelled how
high it flew, not knowing it was the lowest the bird had ever flown.
Down it went, to scrutinize the other birds. Indeed, its face was
the most beautiful of all.


Time passed, the colors softened, night was coming. The
light rays prepared to leave, promising their new-found devotion
that they would be back soon.


"Take me with you," said the bird, "for I do not like this
darkness."


The lights twinkled in merriment.


"You, who have seen an eternity of darkness? You?"


The bird looked around in vain for its ray. It tried to fly
away with the fleeing light rays, but time held it strongly back. The
magnificent black wings had weakened with the day. It could fly no
higher than the other birds.

It tried to think with pleasure of the promise of the rays,
but thought only of one of them returning with a bird like itself.
How all the light would shun it for the new, perhaps more beautiful
face.


It looked upwards at the advancing darkness and felt afraid
for the first time.