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On a distant island, all the birds gathered to show their beauty one to another.
What colourful plumes and feathers they had, and how beautifully they reflected the early morning light and glistened in the evening dusk.
Each morning, more and more birds would wake up early to fashion and preen themselves for their public appearance then tend to their plumage throughout the day, ready to display themselves once more before the light became dim.
One day the birds felt a deep rumble from far beneath them. A volcano erupted from below the water, forming a new island. It was within flying distance of the birds’ island, and, in time, attracted all those who felt too dull and dreary.
Not much was on that island, except for one distinct bird, a blackbird, who had arrived from another island far away.
This bird would also wake up early every morning and preen himself for a solo manifest, repeating this routine in the evening. However, his intentions were not only to display his plumage, for indeed it was not as colourful as the others’, but to express his song.
You see, these beautiful birds from the first island were, in fact, all mute. They were concentrating on everything that was external and not on their inner voice.
The blackbird’s song had the dull and dreary birds mesmerised. As word spread, more birds flocked to the volcanic isle from far and wide. Eventually, all the mute birds migrated from their original home to listen to the blackbird’s exquisite song.
One by one, they began to hear their inner voice, and with time they too learned to sing in the mornings and evenings,
just as birds still do.
edited by Janet Cartlidge, copyright © 2012 Fabrice Schomberg
