The Clouds Of Hope

I’m not certain when the Australian Magpie made her way to the land of kiwi’s but I believe it was around half a century ago. She is one of the most intelligent animals on earth and is the only non-mammal that can recognize itself in a mirror test. She knows how to use tools, play games, work in teams, and can even imitate human speech. She even know how to grieve — perhaps sometimes too much. Some might even say she is in fact a human Magpie with wings, waiting to soar.

What sounds do the Australian Magpie make? “Quardle oodle ardie wardle doodle” or, the more advanced New Zealand Magpie might make a sound like “Google arugula Google arugula”.

She is some kind of bird, that New Zealand Magpie. One of the rarest of species who was unseen and unheard from for so long, haunted by her insufficiency in the cold world when she tried to fly. Her wings clipped as a baby bird, only to crash into the mirror when she looked into it as she didn’t like what she saw. She used to rip the heads off of her predators when she was young, not realizing the deep-seated psychological makeup of her actions was actually learned self-hate, and it was her own head that she was trying to rip off, hoping to be replaced with one that would be accepted.

Unwanted by her flock, she wanted to fly the coop, but, were would she nest? Where would she be able to spread her wings and fly in the middle of the Pacific? Where would she fly to? Who would embrace her? Where could her feathers flock together no matter the weather to make life better?

Who would come to the Magpie’s rescue?

She would.

She had a family of her own — a couple of baby birdies. She loved them and nurtured them and fed them and made them great. She toiled and cleaned up other people’s messes for years and has been the New Zealand version of Sarah Connor battling the zombies and terminators of the world fighting for the front line workers of humanity. If Mad Max in Australia ever needed a blown gasket fixed or a block head on a V8 engine replaced during the apocalypse, he knew just the bird who could handle the job: The New Zealand Magpie. But, somehow, that glass slipper always seemed to elude even the most intelligent, industrious, and tidiest of the Magpies.

Then one day, a call was made. The Magpie heard the call of a birdie who was in need of her very special gifts, and she flew right over.

She knew she was going to get the job as she was top of the bird pecking order. She was sure of it. She interviewed with them months before for a separate position but it wasn’t enough hours for her to get her beak wet. She made an impression though because when this new position opened up, the birdie manager called her as she was the first big bird brain he thought of for the role. It was between her and another little tweety birdie but she was certain it was going to be her.

And then, she fell out of the sky. The wind left her wings. She tripped over the disappointment of not getting the job and it was like an electric pop throughout her entire body — like someone plucked a nerve in a way a guitar string is picked.

Falling…just like the autumn leaves as they change colors and fall back into Mother Earth. To be reborn again in the spring, as the tree of life continues on her journey of growth. And like the leaves and trees, she has her falls and has to dust herself off for new growth. She’s a tough bird broad. Her feathers are used to being ruffled. She knows that rejection is a gift because she was rejected her entire life. She suffered and endured the incredulity of those who were supposed to love the bright colors of her feathers the most, but, their hearts just weren’t big enough. She never let it get in the way of her ‘hope’ cloud though. Because she now believes, as she leafs thru the visions in her past, to find the vision quest of her future. The brightest Magpie in the sky is the one that flies the highest and is filled with the most love as it illuminates the path for the ones still on their journey.

She started communicating recently with other species and slowly grew out of her insecure shadowy figure that had followed her for so many years when she tried to elevate. She no longer has to peek from behind nature’s curtain of enclosures she swathed herself with as a birdie youth to see if anyone was paying attention to her coos of love. She doesn’t have to worry about bad news from pigeon carriers anymore, for she has been enveloped by the love of birdies from all points across the globe, because hope floats right along side of love — they are a symbiotic relationship.

She has found her way there surfing the hope clouds in the sky. The clouds of hope, as the Magpie soars. Her guitar strings of life are no longer plucked to make her weep, as she rides the rainbow roller coaster thru the sun-soaked iridescence, making her soulful connection to the universe as it was designed to be. She peers thru the full spectrum of the kaleidoscopic lens and all of its many colors and images as they spin together in unison so high above the earth. And interspersed in the clouds, there are the warm rays of the sun, as the Magpie glides into a new day. The selected ‘tweety’ bird candidate turned down the job offer. She got the job after all. The Magpie flyeth.

They picked the other birdie because she spoke other languages, but, they must’ve had a bird brain fart and forgotten the exquisiteness that is the New Zealand Magpie and her ineffable supply of colors. The one who flew in solidarity for so long but has so much love and greatness to give. Her feathers engulfed and protected and loved her birdie kids. She always gave it all she had, even when things hit the skids. She took birdies to task for trying to put on a mask, but she didn’t cast them off. Her intelligence and caring nature reigned, as she consoled the other bird brains. She was appreciated more than she knew. Her reasoning and wisdom was offered, and the little birdies grew. The Magpie builds bonds that are the closest, because she is the birdie hostess-with-the-mostest.

Finally, a new job for the Magpie to take flight with. One where she’ll be appreciated for all of her full spectrum of colors and peccadilloes, for they are her most beautiful instruments. All of her Michaelwaves, Supermargret’s, Lovely Carrot and Donkey goats, broccoli for breakfast, and all of those idiosyncrasies that make the Magpie the amazing creature she is. Some birdies might say these are quirks and imperfections but, they aren’t. They’re the good stuff. That’s what makes the Magpie who she is. Her imperfections are what make her perfect.

A great bird friend of mine once squawked to me:”Sometimes little birdies just don’t know what you need”, and to that I say, ‘The world needs more Magpies, but, I’m glad I got to know the best one that’ll ever exist’.

Fly sweet Magpie…fly. You are free. Your intelligence realized. Your worth iron-clad. You’ve found your glass slipper, and, more importantly, your voice. The Magpie voice of the Oceania…making beautiful waves that will ripple and stand the test of time. Your beauty none paralleled by sunsets on the mythical Paekakariki. You are no longer perched in loneliness.Your feathers too bright to be caged. You have mated for life. Your heart is full. Your feathers found the right trajectory path as your velocity knows no earthly bounds. Fly high above the Southern Alps for the whole world to gaze, Magpie, for we have all been waiting for your arrival. You have migrated into all of our hearts. Forever.

— M.G.R.
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