A Great Love

I’m a bird. And this is my love story. I sat on a cliff with my friend Razier, one chilly afternoon.

“How do you tell the gender of a shark?” I asked him.

“I don’t know. And I’m not sure I care.”

“I do.” I responded quietly.

He looked at me.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” I said, “I’m in love just the same.”

He placed his wing on my shoulder.

“It’s not healthy to be in love with something that could kill you.”

“Humans do it all the time.” I protested. “Alcohol, cigarettes, vanity…”

“Exactly.” He said. “Not healthy. Look, Finnley, you’re a good bird. I mean you’re a decent chap. You’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t do this to yourself.”

I looked at him with a quiet desperation.

“I’m in love Raz. I’m in love.”

And with that, I flew off into the distance, over the cliff and into the abyss of the ocean surface.

The wind in my wings felt heaven on earth. The same paradise I felt the first time I ever flew. The feeling only got better with each flap. My favourite was riding the current of the wind. I lifted and dropped. I breathed in deeply as I soared through the clouds, a hopeless romantic, waiting for the moment my love would surface. That’s all I did. I waited. I flew and I waited.

I remember the first day I witnessed such wonder. I was flying with my mother, of all birds. We rose and dipped, existing happily at sea. And then the magic. It was a slow-motion love scene that sits within my heart.

First the splashes. My mother and I moved instantly higher, aware of such dangers, always. She flew higher but I hovered as I watched in awe. The speed and the force with which this Great White moved out of the water took the wind beneath my wings away. It jumped out like a fierce angel. A living paradox of dark and light. I didn’t choose fear. In that moment in time… I chose love. Its colossal jaw opened wide, its astounding teeth bared all horror, and yet my heart flew. It flew into the clouds, the sky, the heavens above, dropping deep into the ocean below. My mother called for me.

“Finnley. Fly. Fly Finnley.” She shouted.

I hovered. Its face so close to mine. I still remember the feeling of the water splashing onto my wings. The fresh, beautiful water. And that’s when it happened. I caught its eye. And it caught mine. An infinitesimal moment in time. A split-second fascination. It saw me too. I felt it in my soul. I flapped upwards. Its open mouth brushing deathly close to my feathers. It dropped down passed me, into the ocean, with a lightening force. On its way down, I caught glimpse of its fin. A marking made of love. A scar of war no doubt, but to me, to me it was a mark of beauty. Its entry into the ocean caused unending splashes of water to fly all over me. I lost real balance and for a short moment, felt frightened. My mother flew towards me.

“Finnley.” She screamed. “Fly! For heaven’s sake… fly!”

I flew. I flew higher. We didn’t stop until we were high above water. We didn’t speak until we landed on the safety of the cliff.

“What in the world happened to you?” She asked angrily shaking water off her feathers.

“I… I….”

She stared at me in dismay. And then wrapped her wings around me. Through our embrace she confessed, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I was silent.

The moon came and then the sun. And then the moon again. I fly above these waters everyday. Waiting. Waiting for the moment I am graced with its beauty just one last time. My eyes scanned the tips of the water, like always, waiting for a single sign. The slightest splashes caught my eyes. And then it happened.

Its captivating fin surfaced just above the water. The scar of love came into full view. I flapped around it, flying in a circle, my heart rupturing with joy. I moved nearer, following its majestic motion. Its gliding through the waves made my soul fly. I was in love and now, I was Being Love. This was the happiest moment of my life. I moved near, absorbing the elegance with which it moved. Angels flew along side me, singing their songs of love. The sun bathing on my feathers, reflecting off the water made a picture perfect memory. It was a still life portrait. A tale in time. I could not have imagined a better way to leave this Earth.

The fin disappeared. I searched once more. I turned to examine the waves and then I saw it. The inside of the mouth of my beloved. The image of its teeth imprinted in my mind. The glory of its body lunging out of the water, splashes surrounding its magnificent form. I took it in. Its colouring, its aura, the impeccable existence of such a fine fish. The light suspended around me. I was face to face with the love that would kill me, and I was singing with the angels.

I’m a bird. And this is my love story.