L'aigle Noir (The Black Eagle)
"All this worldly wisdom was once the unamiable heresy of some wise man."
-Henry David Thoreau
It was bestowed upon her the epithet of a moonstruck fool, by those who feared a beating to their reputations. Why would anyone dare chance the notion that centuries of following traditions had been a waste of time? But she didn't believe in following ceremonial protocol. There was no need for trinkets or instructions written by monks, or even weekly visits to hear another fellow's translation of the same ancient story that could be told a hundred different ways. She'd already seen more profound miracles than any other, and she'd looked straight into the sun. There were no more following silly methods to obtain this or that; no more words or wills getting in the way. It had always been all around her. She just opened her eyes one day.
Dressed in loose fabric that would dance in the wind, she trailed off through the trees...
Her black eagle flew low over the woods, conjuring a large, quiet shadow along the ground. Spotting her tiny form, he dove down and landed by her side. She crawled up his unfolded wing to take a her seat, and they took off swiftly into the sky. This was her route to heaven; to shut out the noise of pulpiteers promising recovery from a miserable state. Here, she was already one with the purest of creation. She picked up the adrenaline of a small herd of deer underneath her ride as their hooves warned of movement from the west. She understood the messages of sparrows and the lessons of coyotes as they passed their experiences on to her starving senses. The aid and persuasions of more reliable creatures held more decent truths in her mind.
Her black eagle was a ruthless predator. He'd wait for hours in the sky and study his prey, slipping in and out before they could feel him coming. He was not a reckless or impulsive bird. Slow moving, meticulous, and easily guarded by shadows, his lesson was that of stealth and survival, disrupting man's ideas of what was fair. He took those faulty ideas of fair or unfair, those made up decrees by insecure and fearful scholars, and burned them up in the sun.
The traditional habits of resting and nesting birds were shaken as he moved in, as he'd feed on other small birds as soon as they became careless and dropped their guard. He swallowed bats. He devoured snakes, rabbits and rats. He was bold, careful and feared. And now he carried her.
She knew humanity's dogma could not interfere with her magnificent bird, nor the natural order of this sacred space. Those human decrees influenced by greed and a desire to control, driven by self absorption over the ages. Their rules and norms were too close to worshiping some golden cow; the real way in which one sells one's soul to the devil. She looked forward and out through the blue sky, taking in the fresh scent of rain starting just over the threshold of the forest's edge. Black eagle turned his head to the right and flew her away from the storm's path. They rested in a feathered thicket dense with twigs and down.
How did she reach the stars? How was such a small, seemingly lost girl so well cared for in a dying world? She was tuned in and turned on to what was real. She no longer relied on the corrupted and confused. She respected the natural world; that world that led directly to the power that crafted it. And in turn, it gave her every answer she searched for. Would you keep talking to someone who disrespected you or didn't pay attention? Nature won't tolerate it, either. And nature talks just as much as we do.
-Henry David Thoreau
It was bestowed upon her the epithet of a moonstruck fool, by those who feared a beating to their reputations. Why would anyone dare chance the notion that centuries of following traditions had been a waste of time? But she didn't believe in following ceremonial protocol. There was no need for trinkets or instructions written by monks, or even weekly visits to hear another fellow's translation of the same ancient story that could be told a hundred different ways. She'd already seen more profound miracles than any other, and she'd looked straight into the sun. There were no more following silly methods to obtain this or that; no more words or wills getting in the way. It had always been all around her. She just opened her eyes one day.
Dressed in loose fabric that would dance in the wind, she trailed off through the trees...
Her black eagle flew low over the woods, conjuring a large, quiet shadow along the ground. Spotting her tiny form, he dove down and landed by her side. She crawled up his unfolded wing to take a her seat, and they took off swiftly into the sky. This was her route to heaven; to shut out the noise of pulpiteers promising recovery from a miserable state. Here, she was already one with the purest of creation. She picked up the adrenaline of a small herd of deer underneath her ride as their hooves warned of movement from the west. She understood the messages of sparrows and the lessons of coyotes as they passed their experiences on to her starving senses. The aid and persuasions of more reliable creatures held more decent truths in her mind.
Her black eagle was a ruthless predator. He'd wait for hours in the sky and study his prey, slipping in and out before they could feel him coming. He was not a reckless or impulsive bird. Slow moving, meticulous, and easily guarded by shadows, his lesson was that of stealth and survival, disrupting man's ideas of what was fair. He took those faulty ideas of fair or unfair, those made up decrees by insecure and fearful scholars, and burned them up in the sun.
The traditional habits of resting and nesting birds were shaken as he moved in, as he'd feed on other small birds as soon as they became careless and dropped their guard. He swallowed bats. He devoured snakes, rabbits and rats. He was bold, careful and feared. And now he carried her.
She knew humanity's dogma could not interfere with her magnificent bird, nor the natural order of this sacred space. Those human decrees influenced by greed and a desire to control, driven by self absorption over the ages. Their rules and norms were too close to worshiping some golden cow; the real way in which one sells one's soul to the devil. She looked forward and out through the blue sky, taking in the fresh scent of rain starting just over the threshold of the forest's edge. Black eagle turned his head to the right and flew her away from the storm's path. They rested in a feathered thicket dense with twigs and down.
How did she reach the stars? How was such a small, seemingly lost girl so well cared for in a dying world? She was tuned in and turned on to what was real. She no longer relied on the corrupted and confused. She respected the natural world; that world that led directly to the power that crafted it. And in turn, it gave her every answer she searched for. Would you keep talking to someone who disrespected you or didn't pay attention? Nature won't tolerate it, either. And nature talks just as much as we do.
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