poem(?) | the bird's embodiment of freedom will liberate us all

newly tasting the hot and cold of breakfast, welcoming in the satisfaction-

there's a magpie outside the kitchen window,

aerating the neighbour's front garden with its beak in the search of bugs.

it stops to itch itself on the neck. then goes back to plodding along. pecking.

this bird seems to know something I don't.

it brings light upon the world just by doing what it was brought here for,

staying focused on its sole purpose. stopping to sing and scratch, letting them fill its attention. 

more importantly, not passing judgement on any of it. this bird has no desire and so no suffering,

staying firmly in the present moment. the only one that can change anything.

it doesn't think 'I should just try & wait 3 minutes & see if I'm still itchy & if I am-'

it just itches. 

this bird knows that discomfort subsides when the issue is dealt with, not the symptoms fixated upon.

fixating on the problem isn't meditation, which is peace and compassion-

I really could just not think about anything bad ever again, which would be meditative,

noticing the un-dispersed essence of misery before it festers, and then simply releasing it,

turning my attention back onto what I love: the singing, the scratching. being here to fully feel them.

I recognise nothing amongst the newly-fractured-again contents of the self but love, 

an experience of pain having splintered so severely as to break into little shining fractals from spikes, too small to hurt me anymore. 

it doesn't have to ever again, as this bird reminds me, 

waddling happily along the greenery, breaking out into song just because it wants to.

that's not to say that others won't bring their unresolved illness upon me, or that I have to enjoy it,

the lesson is to simply realise that happiness, spilling out freely from my heart, never left.

to share it when I can in the interest of cultivating it for all others, 

and shake off the ego that believes it's scarce enough to warrant keeping it to myself,

so scarce as to believe it's all been depleted, and turn back toward unneeded hopelessness.

bodhicitta demonstrated very clearly to me by a magpie, maybe the most enlightened of all,

taking off into the air on its unburdened wings.