THE SONGBIRD

Like looking through a kaleidoscope, the shades and shapes twist and turn. One green merging into another through prisms and bouncing light reflecting off glossy leaves, rambling roots and tree trunks. Craning your neck will not reveal the sky. 

As eyes become accustomed to this verdant dance, the songbird wakes from her treasured sleep. Gently, she stretches her crumpled wing looks around and sensing the dawn, shakes and rises.  She picks her way through the undergrowth, pausing to move a leaf, reposition a twig, listening, cocking her head and stopping to catch a sound or scent in the air. Her morning dance begins - she sings. 

The forest calls – she answers.  Becoming accustomed to the pulsing light other eyes, other shapes, other creatures reveal themselves. 

Suddenly the forest calls become more shrill and agitated, the songbird is alarmed. From a distance a low rumble penetrates this tranquil scene, gathering pace and density. Then a harsh light forces its way into the calmness of the green. A machine moves relentlessly forward, bright white lights spin in circles, aching cries screech as the giant trees are brought to their knees.  A dark figure is at the reigns, commanding the two-man team to move faster, pursue this line or that, choosing with calculated discrimination those trees to fell. Then the machine judders and stops. Silence in the forest.  One…two…three…four heartbeats… still silence. 

One…two…three…heartbeats and the songbird in confusion sings again. Stopped in their tracks, their eyes and ears search for the source of this song.  They spot her as she begins to claim back her forest, picking her way once again with delicate determination. 

The dark figure leaves the vehicle, her heart captivated by this song. She sings in response and for a moment the figure and the songbird see and hear each other as they really are.  Then the machine shudders back into action, the lights arc and spin and the driver calls procedure. As if snapped out of her reverie, the figure hears a different voice inside. “There will be profit in this delicate creature’s hypnotising song.  Take her to the city. There she will make my name and fortune.” 

The songbird frozen by fear and confusion follows the figure as the machine is transformed into a boat and the journey across the sea begins. The sail catches the wind and they make good speed but the swell of the sea grows stronger and a storm ensues. The figures try to control the boat, the sail is ripped, and finally the storm abates.  The boat drifts becalmed and those on board sing their future into view. 

It is nightfall and through the blackness the neon lights pick out the metropolis. On land and with excitement and purpose the figure declaims her prize. The songbird follows the only familiar thing she now knows.  The city grows around them, tall structures, vehicles, people and unfamiliar noise. 

The glamorous theatre is full to bursting. The audience hush as the  Maestro pianist and cellist compete for their appreciation. Thrilled, the audience cheers. Then the birdcage is revealed – a single spotlight draws the songbird forward and her beguiling song captivates and thrills them too. This performance is repeated and repeated, time after time drawing further crowds and adoration until suddenly the songbird falters and falls to the ground - still and silent. 

In a dream of remembrance the songbird returns to her forest. Her song echoes in the voice of the figure who too late now knows what she has lost. 

The Songbird © Katrina Caldwell