The bluebird is Missouri's State bird. It is precious to me also because, soon after I moved to the Ozarks, my godfather ('uncle bull') sent me a watercolor he had made of one. The morning I received news that he had died in spring 2008, a bluebird came to visit me in my new forest home.
Birds can be messengers for us when they come in dream-life or in day-life. I have experienced both. Now I am learning to listen to them more carefully. The day I decided to post these, a Cooper's hawk perched very close to where I was working in the forest clearing logs. He gave me courage.
Bluebird
The morning after
He threatened to kill me
There was a blue bird
He couldn't hear it at first
But I heard it falling
A long metallic scream as it
Slipped downwards
I knew no way to save her
All day she tried
Trapped in the stove pipe
Attracted to ashes
Lost in a well of darkness
Fire burns in him
And birds have fallen before
Nothing he intended
Yearning for that brightness
All day I listened
To her pain sounding like mine
Then my cat saw her
Silent behind the glass darkly
Somehow she had
Slipped through a tiny crack
An impossible feat
She did it or the gods did it
I reached in for her
Took her gently to the door
Not black but blue
She flew out over the water
Later I understood
That she was my soul-wings
Blue bird of the air
Bringing life to fire's flame
Blue cool and free
She was an illusion of water
Flowing upwards
And he had mistaken her
For a safe passage
Channeling smoke to the sky
Not understanding
That she was born in the wind
Hagalaz
A full moon shone
on new snow
the morning after
Hagalaz
white and cold
as prayer ties;
the air sharp
as sage smoke
dressed in the robes
of renunciation.
He said I looked
blank as death
I told him I was
just afraid;
but his fear
was much greater
bamboo cracked
over bamboo
shards scattered
like paper dreams.
After a while
he stopped wanting
to kill himself
and I could sleep;
though my bed
called in lightening
and the moon was
smothered
caught in the web
of Nauthiz.
Now the pure
peace of Wunjo
heaven's breath
glows on the water;
I could hold up
my closed hand
and release the dove
in my chest
let her fly out of
the shadows of winter.



