Philippa Lane (March 7th,1941 / Chichester, West Sussex, England)

Yes, I’d been gone a long, long time
In my soul and in my head,
A’praying the deadness would leave,
That life would flow in my veins instead.

Then one summer morn,
As if in answer to my prayer,
The Cally Bird flew right threw
The open window of my room,

& as if to prove the myth were true,
It gazed at me so steadfastly
& I returned its gaze - it came
Almost like a warning for me
To heed its magical ways.

Then into its beak and feathered frame
It took my fears and took my shame,
Arrested the anguish & the pain,
Chased the shadows from my mind,

Leaving me feeling I was sane.

Nothing was said, nothing was sung
As it flew away to Cally-Bird Land.

All I heard was the whirring of wings
As it carried my sickness out of sight,
Out of the darkness of my night,
Into the golden light of the sun.

The demons that had lived
In my head day and night,
Were mysteriously dead and gone,
Buried in the man-made grave
I’d been rescued from.

Yes, my soul was a’living,
My spirit shone,
It shone like the sun
& the moon & the stars in one -

I was back in this life, a'feeling
The joy as well as the strife.

No, there’s no need
To carry a gun any more,
‘Cos I’ve drawn myself
A spiritual map
To travel through life unafraid -

No longer unsure.

So I sing to the mythical Bird-of-the-sun,
I sing in praise of his magical ways!

Om! Om mani padme hum!
Om! Om mani padme hum!

Alleluiah!
Alleluiah!

Amen.

(Senneville, Canada
June 1990)