I entered a garden where two magpies came and went.
I was given this garden to tend to, to keep, for a time, and it was one of my greatest honors.
Others who entered the garden often scoffed at the magpies.
Gave them names.
Names not true to who I saw them to be.
The magpies never were a nuisance to me. But there presence in the garden gave me peace, made me feel safe, made me laugh, made me feel beautiful, made me feel loved.
Often misunderstood by others, I desired them to be close to me. I saw their loyalty, I saw their intelligence, I saw their beauty.
But they always seemed to be entangled in red thread.
My heart longed for them to be untangled, to be set free.
As I would reach for them to untangle them they would peck at me. They would hop away. They would fly to the tree unreachable.
They inspired me to dream of another garden. Another garden where there might be other magpies to adore. But them, never forgotten.
One day I’d leave the garden expectant to return.
Expectant to see the magpies once again.
Until one day I heard on the breeze a chill. A doom. A dirge.
I felt in my soul and knew that if I ever returned to the garden, the magpies would not be there.
I mourned and wrestled. Grieving that before I left, I had never untangled them from their snare.
But the wind whispered to me, “They would have only been untangled if they had surrendered.”
But the magpies were untamable. They chose a life for themselves. And though the wind groaned with anguish, the wind blows whichever way it will.
It doesn’t keep snakes and consequences from the garden. But it’s cool breeze is always there.
And the wind will continue to guide me on to a new garden. A garden of remembrance. A garden where once again I hope for magpies to find refuge and be untangled from the red thread.
