There was this bird.. flittering quiet alone then she came across a running stream full of thoughts magic and gurgling quietness overflowing with abundant joy and mirth in a quiet wooded spot over the hills and beyond flowing determined royally unmoved unattached so happy to rest and flow to constantly happily positively exist teaching the bird to be happy content being itself is what it taught the bird to exist seeing its immense beauty the bird chirped on the tree branch near it made its nest there overlooking its mystical ambivalence purity playfulness wildness quietness it brought so much joy in the birds life which it never saw before-never and her meaning of existence changed she began to see her flaws her shallowness the restless in her abided and life became paradise she frittered hovered around the stream knowing only one thing it never wanted to leave it wanted to take in all its beauty in her being and the stream was just itself it accepted her the way it accepted its surroundings in time they became close she would chirp and the stream would keep its course cascading as usual they shared the quiet surrender of nature took in the unique scents of nature worshiped the tranquility and peace and joy of their surroundings so beautiful was the harmony the togetherness of their separate existence yet they shared so much she revered the stream for it was worth worshiping it had the essence of life it had the joy of paradise it had everything in this world all nut shelled within it crystallized the beauty of the world it had stories pain mirth and joy it had suffering and happiness and abundant love it was everything the bird wanted but never knew existed and she worshiped it in spite of her herself too much perhaps because she knew that her moments were short lived precious and she was conscious of that all the time it was painful and blissful and fulfilling and pure soon she thought she was part of the stream she dipped in the water with her beak the water was warm and cold sweet and magically salty rare and she never left she is still there sitting on that lone tree above the lone icicle even on a warm summer day she remains there with the streams beauty basking in the sun drenching in the rain freezing on a cold snowy night the stars come and go the moon and sun are her well wishers too she loves the stream always it is a part of her being she is the stream now for in her are its drops...
