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 (Chp2:1) "Bird Brained"
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One Thousand Years: Genesage

"Bird Brained"

(Chp 2:1)


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The Sparrow

*****************


Today was the sixty ninth year in the Kingdom of God. While Heaven had come to Earth it met with Hell on Earth.


The world had literally fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire.


Nothing was left when the World began again.


It was birthed into a Kingdom, but what had been before, like an afterbirth, was dead and useless. It was no longer needed for the “new birth”.


Slowly the world got better.


The results were sixty-nine years later the Nation of Yisra’el was well on its way to recovery.


That was the good news; the bad news was nothing remained of what man had wrought.


All was gone.


Survivor’s mental and emotional states were still getting around to where they should be, but without a frame of reference, the memories were mostly nightmarish. Some were learning to move on with life, others held to ideas of the Old World.


The world outside in the One Continent Eretz was still changing.


Changing from chaotic devastation to something resembling creation.


It was a far cry from where it had been; but judging as to where it was headed, the world still needed time. Time to develop.


As with almost every other day, a sparrow returned to visit. It was morning. In the early mornings the little bird arrived to an open window as if to listen. Maybe he just came to look for food, perhaps to join in somehow.


Either way He would watch the young and old, twelve in all, gather around a long table. It wasn’t too small and it wasn’t too tall; some might have said, it was just right.


The table was low to the ground so the occupants reclined or sat cross-legged. No one fell asleep but all were relaxed when they came. Or at least no one had fallen asleep ….yet. If they had, there might have been a few in attendance that would have enjoyed the idea of someone falling asleep while they were there. They would have “helped wake them up.” 


So far that hadn’t happened…, yet either.


The sparrow was a character. He looked more like a student than a bird. He didn’t fall asleep either.


He certainly paid attention. He seemed genuinely interested. At times the students appeared more like the sparrow. They seemed intent on looking all around except where they were. Often carrying on conversation, they seemed less interested at times of where they were, than what they were going to do.


Bird brained or human brained there were times when it was hard to tell the difference.


The bird probably would have resented being called “man-brained”.


As the people assembled together in the meeting place, the sparrow was always the first to arrive. He landed outside, wide awake and attentive. Perky and rather chipper, with an open window in front of him, it was an obvious invitation to come in.


So the bird did. No hesitation on his part, he just made himself to home.


The bird would hop up onto the window sill.


While waiting it would dart it's head to and fro, cocking it from one side to the other, to watch the arrivals enter. Scoping them out, the bird eyed every activity. He watched every person that came or went in the morning meeting.


Being eagle eyed by one so small was certainly amusing but he did appear alert….for a bird.


There was nothing particularly remarkable about the little one, just the fact that he showed up whenever everyone got together. He was always there, he never missed. Nothing unusual per se except the bird knew how to look you in the eye.


In the morning meetings the bird, a sparrow, serenaded the arrivals as they streamed in one or two at a time. Singing a song as sparrows do, no one knew the words to name that tune.


But they did enjoy the sparkling notes of the repertoire the bird could sing. Sometimes some of those in attendance would whistle a tune at the bird.


Or at least they used to.


The first time they did the bird stopped singing and stared.


The sparrow as small as he was seemed to grow in stature as he glared at the one whistling. No longer darting its head or twisting its neck, the bird would hold as dead pan a stare as anyone had ever seen. A stare at whoever was whistling at him. Looking at the bird in the eye, one could almost imagine that the person whistling had said something stupid and the bird took umberance with it.


Maybe he did, no one knew for sure.


They just didn’t whistle when the bird was singing anymore deferring to the little one.


This morning the bird was singing with no competition.
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