A Pastel Parrot sat on a perch
In the shade of cinnamon tree
Shards of sunlight
Illuminated his iridescent plumage
A tourist curiosity
with the click of camera
In milliseconds barely
He was captured on Kodachrome
No winged bird now
An image only
his image became
the photographer’s first prize.
Admired by friends
Who wanted their own…
A negative was never found
It vanished in thin air
Like the click of his camera
and the flash of a bulb
in a matter of milliseconds
so quickly, way too soon
The picture-taker, himself, was gone.
His office door was closed.
The desk in disarray.
Her grieving heart could not be
moved to discovery.
“Later,” she would say
“I’ll get to it later.”
And then after the 11th month…
One day, per chance or will
Her key unlocked the door
The time for mourning over
And much to do….began
Amongst his stuff now on the floor
under a pile to be thrown away
with images of weeping rose and butterfly
the Pastel Parrot lay.
Nearly lost to the trash
so close to extinction
inside a manila tomb
The bird waited for release
Her gentle hands opened
The envelope with caution and care
She had no idea what might be inside
Oh God, she cried…and all this time
You were there!
You were always there!
A true resurrection? Yes!
It happened just that way,
On a particularly sunny and beautiful day.
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.