The Forest of Sorrowful Birds
This is not a poem at all, but...
As the tourists piled out of the bus they were greeted with a sign saying:
The Gomez family was at the back of the line; Mom and Dad (Dona and Paul). Son Eric (13) and daughter Emma (16).
“Just why are we here again?,” droned Emma with an eyeroll.
Paul took it as a positive sign that she had actually raised her head from her phone. Eric remained oblivious, probably. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.
The Tour Guide arrive to give his spiel:
Welcome to the Forest of Sorrowful Birds or El Bosque de los Pájaros Tristes. We are very happy you are here. This is a place like no other in the world. It is very, very old and most of the birds that you will see today can be seen nowhere else in the world. The birds are notoriously colorful and even friendly. Their plumage is even more brilliant than a hummingbird’s or a Resplendent Quetzal’s, but the truth is we know very little about them. They seem to know a scientist when they see one and stay away. If truth be told very few scientists want to study them after having seen them. They are simply too beautiful and only the most callous person could bring themselves to bother them. I am sure you will all be amazed. Everyone is.
Before we enter I need to remind you all of the agreement you signed. This forest is unique legally as well. Although it spans only a 100.000 hectares or so and is contained completely within Colombia, it has the status of a sovereign nation with sovereign law to which everyone who enters is subject.
“Boooriiing!!!” muttered Emma.
“I can’t believe she’s paying attention”, thought Paul.
The birds are peculiar. From time to time they invite someone to become a part of Forest. You have all agreed that if you are chosen you will enter the heart of the forest, at least for a short while. Also ONLY those who are invited may enter no matter their relation.. Do you all understand and agree to this?
Silence then a few mutters.
I need to hear you all, please.
A chorus of muttered yeses and grunts with a positive tone was heard.
OK, Thank you! Are there any questions before we proceed?
Shockingly Emma came out with, “Well if this place is so great why does it have such a crappy name? I mean, Sorrowful Birds?? It’s so depressing!!!”
That is how it is called. It has always been named that way for as long as we have records, according to the language of the people of the time, of course. Even the Conquistadores didn’t dare to change it or to enter, really, even though it was thought to be rich in gold. Ponce de Leon thought better of searching for his fountain here.
Another man spoke up. “This place is huge and the facilities appear to be top-notch. I mean the busses must cost a fortune to run, but you guys don’t charge anything. It’s free! What’s your angle?”
There’s no angle. Everything is paid for by those who have been invited to enter the heart of the forest. They feel it is their duty. It is their pleasure as well.
Paul was surprised to find himself asking, “What happens in the heart of the forest?”
Many things. The guide gave Paul a look. Not a bad look. Just a look. Most enter for a short while and then return to life on the outside. Some stay for an extended time. Others, a very few, never leave and live out their lives among the birds and the trees. One thing they all have in common is that on the day they were invited they were overwhelmed with sadness. When they leave the are changed. We don’t understand how the birds know, but as far as we can tell they are never wrong.
“We don’t have to worry about that, do we Hon’?”, whispered Emma to Paul.
“Of course not”, he said smiling. As he said it he saw Eric looking at him very seriously. Paul just smiled more… or tried to.
“But what do they do in the forest!?” Blurted a bored teenager.
They change.
“Super booriiing”, the kid muttered out loud with a sneer.
Any other questions? No? Ok, let’s get going then!
Paul hung back as they went through the wide gate into the forest. He was tired. Exhausted. It was never easy for him to be around people for so long, even his wife. “Especially my wife”, he thought sadly. He could see Dona there, 10 meters or so further up the trail. She looked good. She had worked hard to get into “bikini shape” for their trip and it showed. “If I were normal I’d be all over that,” he thought, and the old familiar despair came back churning inside and everything just got further away. “Try harder, asshole!!!”, he thought as he always did, every day, many times every day.
As the usual, comfortable darkness started to surround him, his eyes were drawn up by a weird light, and there it was -- A Sorrowful Bird! He had never seen anything like it, and now he couldn’t see anything else. It filled him and left no room for thought, at last. Tamed by the overwhelming beauty of the bird, his thooughts gave way and the sorrow that had always filled him overflowed. He just sat down on the trail overcome with tears, with everything, with loneliness. Deep inside a voice said, “Finally someone sees, and it’s a fucking bird!!” He didn’t know if he said it out loud, but the bird moved its wings with a flashing light he understood to be laughter as if to say, “You got that right! Ironic isn’t it?” Then the bird came to him and landed on his shoulder. Its touch was impossibly light but he knew it would never abandon him. “You’re home”, he heard in his head as he said “I’m home.”
When he could finally see something other than the bird, the tourists were all around him gawking. The guide was there in front of him. When he saw that Paul was coming back to himself he put out his hand to help him up and said, “Welcome. Come with me.” All at once Paul was afraid but he felt the bird there on his shoulder and its light, though less brilliant than before, still filled his peripheral vision. He took the guide’s hand and used it stand up.
“What happened?” he said.
“What happened?” said Dona.
The guide looked Paul in the eyes, still holding his hand and said, “You’ve been invited in. Please come with me.” Paul followed. As he left with the Guide Paul heard Dona saying, “Where are you going? Don’t leave!!! I’m coming.. we’re coming too!!!” He looked back at his family. Eric was smiling at him. He never smiled!! Emma was bored, of course, but gave him a look as if to say, “About time, duhhh!”
“Wait a moment,” he said to the guide. He went Dona. He took her hand and he said, “I’m sorry that my sorrow left no room in my heart for you or for anyone. I don’t know what’s happening to me, what’s going to happen. None of this is on you. You deserve better.”
He returned to the guide who said, “Don’t worry. They won’t be left alone.”
“Better alone than with me,” he said, but then he felt the bird squeeze his shoulder and sing, “That’s not for you to say.” And he heard himself saying, “I guess that’s not for me to say.”
They turned off the main path and entered the True Forest.
As the tourists piled out of the bus they were greeted with a sign saying:
Welcome to the Forest of Sorrowful Birds
The Gomez family was at the back of the line; Mom and Dad (Dona and Paul). Son Eric (13) and daughter Emma (16).
“Just why are we here again?,” droned Emma with an eyeroll.
Paul took it as a positive sign that she had actually raised her head from her phone. Eric remained oblivious, probably. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.
The Tour Guide arrive to give his spiel:
Welcome to the Forest of Sorrowful Birds or El Bosque de los Pájaros Tristes. We are very happy you are here. This is a place like no other in the world. It is very, very old and most of the birds that you will see today can be seen nowhere else in the world. The birds are notoriously colorful and even friendly. Their plumage is even more brilliant than a hummingbird’s or a Resplendent Quetzal’s, but the truth is we know very little about them. They seem to know a scientist when they see one and stay away. If truth be told very few scientists want to study them after having seen them. They are simply too beautiful and only the most callous person could bring themselves to bother them. I am sure you will all be amazed. Everyone is.
Before we enter I need to remind you all of the agreement you signed. This forest is unique legally as well. Although it spans only a 100.000 hectares or so and is contained completely within Colombia, it has the status of a sovereign nation with sovereign law to which everyone who enters is subject.
“Boooriiing!!!” muttered Emma.
“I can’t believe she’s paying attention”, thought Paul.
The birds are peculiar. From time to time they invite someone to become a part of Forest. You have all agreed that if you are chosen you will enter the heart of the forest, at least for a short while. Also ONLY those who are invited may enter no matter their relation.. Do you all understand and agree to this?
Silence then a few mutters.
I need to hear you all, please.
A chorus of muttered yeses and grunts with a positive tone was heard.
OK, Thank you! Are there any questions before we proceed?
Shockingly Emma came out with, “Well if this place is so great why does it have such a crappy name? I mean, Sorrowful Birds?? It’s so depressing!!!”
That is how it is called. It has always been named that way for as long as we have records, according to the language of the people of the time, of course. Even the Conquistadores didn’t dare to change it or to enter, really, even though it was thought to be rich in gold. Ponce de Leon thought better of searching for his fountain here.
Another man spoke up. “This place is huge and the facilities appear to be top-notch. I mean the busses must cost a fortune to run, but you guys don’t charge anything. It’s free! What’s your angle?”
There’s no angle. Everything is paid for by those who have been invited to enter the heart of the forest. They feel it is their duty. It is their pleasure as well.
Paul was surprised to find himself asking, “What happens in the heart of the forest?”
Many things. The guide gave Paul a look. Not a bad look. Just a look. Most enter for a short while and then return to life on the outside. Some stay for an extended time. Others, a very few, never leave and live out their lives among the birds and the trees. One thing they all have in common is that on the day they were invited they were overwhelmed with sadness. When they leave the are changed. We don’t understand how the birds know, but as far as we can tell they are never wrong.
“We don’t have to worry about that, do we Hon’?”, whispered Emma to Paul.
“Of course not”, he said smiling. As he said it he saw Eric looking at him very seriously. Paul just smiled more… or tried to.
“But what do they do in the forest!?” Blurted a bored teenager.
They change.
“Super booriiing”, the kid muttered out loud with a sneer.
Any other questions? No? Ok, let’s get going then!
Paul hung back as they went through the wide gate into the forest. He was tired. Exhausted. It was never easy for him to be around people for so long, even his wife. “Especially my wife”, he thought sadly. He could see Dona there, 10 meters or so further up the trail. She looked good. She had worked hard to get into “bikini shape” for their trip and it showed. “If I were normal I’d be all over that,” he thought, and the old familiar despair came back churning inside and everything just got further away. “Try harder, asshole!!!”, he thought as he always did, every day, many times every day.
As the usual, comfortable darkness started to surround him, his eyes were drawn up by a weird light, and there it was -- A Sorrowful Bird! He had never seen anything like it, and now he couldn’t see anything else. It filled him and left no room for thought, at last. Tamed by the overwhelming beauty of the bird, his thooughts gave way and the sorrow that had always filled him overflowed. He just sat down on the trail overcome with tears, with everything, with loneliness. Deep inside a voice said, “Finally someone sees, and it’s a fucking bird!!” He didn’t know if he said it out loud, but the bird moved its wings with a flashing light he understood to be laughter as if to say, “You got that right! Ironic isn’t it?” Then the bird came to him and landed on his shoulder. Its touch was impossibly light but he knew it would never abandon him. “You’re home”, he heard in his head as he said “I’m home.”
When he could finally see something other than the bird, the tourists were all around him gawking. The guide was there in front of him. When he saw that Paul was coming back to himself he put out his hand to help him up and said, “Welcome. Come with me.” All at once Paul was afraid but he felt the bird there on his shoulder and its light, though less brilliant than before, still filled his peripheral vision. He took the guide’s hand and used it stand up.
“What happened?” he said.
“What happened?” said Dona.
The guide looked Paul in the eyes, still holding his hand and said, “You’ve been invited in. Please come with me.” Paul followed. As he left with the Guide Paul heard Dona saying, “Where are you going? Don’t leave!!! I’m coming.. we’re coming too!!!” He looked back at his family. Eric was smiling at him. He never smiled!! Emma was bored, of course, but gave him a look as if to say, “About time, duhhh!”
“Wait a moment,” he said to the guide. He went Dona. He took her hand and he said, “I’m sorry that my sorrow left no room in my heart for you or for anyone. I don’t know what’s happening to me, what’s going to happen. None of this is on you. You deserve better.”
He returned to the guide who said, “Don’t worry. They won’t be left alone.”
“Better alone than with me,” he said, but then he felt the bird squeeze his shoulder and sing, “That’s not for you to say.” And he heard himself saying, “I guess that’s not for me to say.”
They turned off the main path and entered the True Forest.