The Amaranthine Poet

The Bluebird’s Lament

Two proud bluebirds built a very proud nest, laid their eggs, watched them all hatch, then shut their eyes so that they could rest.
During their untimely slumber, an eagle flew by and stole the smallest newborn bird whose feather’s most resembled the deep blue of the sky.
The eagle flew him far beyond the Turkish trees and over the wide and solaced seas,
She flew for days until her wings became tired and her body went numb and she spotted a little girl on the land crying over a broken drum.
The eagle, having grown fond of the bluebird and not wanting him to die, dropped him inside the girl’s broken drum and stumbled away as she said goodbye.
The bluebird looked up at the little girl and asked her why she was sobbing. She told him that her drum had broken and could no longer beat like a heart with its rhythmic throbbing.
Seeing that she was quite distraught all day long, the bluebird took pity on her, swallowed the sunshine and sang to her the most beautiful song.
The girl smiled and seeing that the bluebird was completely alone, told him that if he sang for her everyday, he could live within her home.
Over the years, the bluebird grew quite fond of the girl and with the accumulation of that thereof, his heart began to beat with a rhythmic throbbing and he fell for her, deeply in love.
The bird was silent with his affection, but with each day, was secretly falling apart; so, he told the girl that he held her deep within his little drum heart.
She told him that she could not love someone whose body was covered in blue feathers, so, that night he plucked each one out and was sure that they could now be together.
But then she told him that she could not love someone who had no arms of which to hold her in, so, he fled to a rose garden where two fairies slept and chopped an arm off of each sleeping fairy twin.
Then he cut off his wings and put the fairy arms where his wings once were and went to the girl in the hopes that he might have finally appeased her.
But the girl sighed and said she could not love someone who was so poor and told him that if he fell into great riches she would not ask for anything more.
So, the bluebird set off and came across a man with jewels of great sorrow held in his eyes, his body dripped with myrrh and he was writing a trembling letter in the dull glow of the moonrise.
The bluebird watched as the man finished the letter and sent it to God in a white balloon; he turned to the bird and told him that he was a wealthy king whose wife had just perished in an angry fire that very afternoon.
The bird frowned but continued on his way; he swallowed the moonlight, lifted up his voice, and the moon, the stars and sky were all envious as he began to sing.
Then he stopped as he heard the man say, “If only I had such a singing voice, I could sing away all my sorrows. I tell you, it would be a far greater gift than being a wealthy king.”
The bluebird suddenly had a brilliant idea and he began to rejoice; saying, “Dear King, if you give me your riches, your kingdom, and your throne, I will give you my beautiful voice!”
The king agreed, so the bluebird cut out his tongue, the king swallowed it and began to sing as he took off his crown and made the bluebird, king.
The king had become a poor man, but with a happy heart and the bluebird could not wait for his life with his love to start.
The girl, finding that the bird was now what she wanted, married him that day and with their marriage came a multitude of happy tears. However, the bliss in the bluebird’s heart did not last, could not stay, for he became very distraught after just a few years.
He began to long for all the things he once had; the bluebird had changed who he was and thus, became terribly sad.
He missed his feathers, he missed each blue wing, and most of all, he missed his ability to sing.
The bluebird built a boat out of pieces of gold and rotting trees and became a blue sailor who sailed far out just to be alone to cry in the solaced seas.
He knew that riches meant nothing if love was not true, and the little bluebird became so blue, so very blue.
His heart was broken like the girl’s drum which could no longer beat with a rhythmic throbbing and the bluebird went out into the deep of the emerald forest and began sobbing.
He wept so much that a river formed and began to swell and rise,
and the poor little bluebird drowned in the tears which fell from his very own eyes.

Jenna Awad
The Amaranthine Poet