Thursday, April 28, 2016

Ip'id: A Bird in Hand

I have heard--When Ip'id was ten, he and his mother stood on the dusty path and watched as the Region Circus marched into the village; there were camels, pigs, brahma cows, chickens and people with physical abnormalities.  

Suddenly! To Ip'id's left! Movement! A small brown and black bird had fallen from the nest. It was fully feathered, but too young to take flight. As Ip'id pursued the bird with his childish enthusiasm, the creature ran in fear. Ip'ids mother watched calmly, and knew her son wouldn't hurt the bird.  

Finally Ip'ids hands cornered and gently scooped up the frightened bird. Then Ip'id grew curious as the bird stopped chirping when his hands 'cupped' around it - it now sat quietly in his hands as if nested.

"What are you going to do with it?" His mother asked so that he made a choice about life and freedom without her guidance. 
"I'm going to keep it and feed it...and then I'll let it go when it can fly." Ip'id said ideally.
"And what of it's mother? She'll be looking for it," she looked in the trees as she spoke.

However Ip'ids face was decided, as he stared with wonder at the tiny creature; his first such encounter. At their home, the bird didn't eat the bread crumbs, dead moths or fly's and Ip'id grew frustrated with his plans. But his parents said nothing.

Two days later, the bird died of starvation and Ip'id witnessed death by his hand for the first time. Ip'id was saddened by his actions in knowing he was the cause.  His father said, "That bird will remain in your heart until you understand life...that will you free of it."  
"What have you learned my son?" his mother asked.   
"Stay by your side when the circus passes." Ip'id frowned.