"The Little Yellow Bird"


The Little Yellow Bird

I saw him earlier this day, flitting about his bright yellow feathers shone

as he landed on the green leaves of the birch. I watched with joy and

love and appreciation for having such a gift come here, to this land, to

gift me with such beauty and the joy of hearing his song.

There was another and I said out loud, look there is another one; and I

was happy as they flitted about, flying, singing and feasting at the feeder
that I always have filled. I was happy he came and his brother, or could

it have been his mate?

Later, the rains came and the sky darkened and I saw what I did not want

to see It was Minnie, our pet cat, proud as could be. Here she came to me,

bearing a gift she believed. And there, in her mouth, was he the little yellow
bird.

I took him from her; his breathing was fast and labored and I held his tiny,

warm body in my hand and knew he was dying...his precious lifeblood was

on my hand. I told him I was sorry. I spoke softly to him, held him close

and gently and then I began to sing - his death song.

He looked at me, this winged brother of mine; He knew...he knew it was

his time. So, I sang, held him close and watched, as the life left his body;
I ended his death song with my tears. I held him still; and dug a grave in
the womb of our Mother;

I held him close. I gently placed him down, back to the earth, our Mother

and I sprinkled his beautiful yellow body with the Sacred tobacco. To the

East I turned - to Our Creator and Grandfather Eagle and I prayed. Free

his little Spirit oh Great One and may his tiny body rest within the womb

of our Mother.

And I cried.
Calling Crow - August 7, 1999


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