Let me tell you a story: Once, a long time ago, in a very rich and powerful kingdom, there lived a well loved and well respected King. He had ascended the throne very early in life, when his father died of an illness. At first, the advisors were afraid that he might be a difficult and petulant King, because as a boy, he was prone to temper tantrums. But much to their relief, he was fair and even tempered on the throne, even if he was still prone to scream at the servants or break a plate or two every now and then. It so happened that this King had a great love for nature. During his rule, the parks and forests of the kingdom were kept in immaculate condition. The citizens were encouraged to plant fruit trees and flowering bushes along the streets and outside their homes. The King had decreed that any citizen who was cruel to an animal would receive the same treatment by way of punishment. The palace itself had one of the biggest and most beautiful gardens the world had ever seen. It was filled with the most amazing fruits and flowers and exotic animals. Visiting dignitaries would carry word of this beautiful garden back to their kingdoms, and although the rich and powerful Kings far away tried to emulate this great wonder, no one ever came close. It so happened that one day, as the King was taking his usual evening stroll through the amazing garden, he heard a melody he had never heard before. It seemed almost like a song from a dream, a beautiful but fleeting moment that passed almost immediately out of hearing, but lingered on in the heart and mind long after. What manner of thing could be making such a beautiful song? The King searched the gardens high and low. He called upon his servant, and then his advisors, and then his army, and they all combed the vast gardens searching for the source of the song. Every branch, every flower, every leaf, every shrub, every rock and every tree were inspected carefully. Finally, one of the servants cried out that she had found the source of the melody. A tiny, beautiful yellow bird. No bigger than the size of your palm, perched serenely on the petal of a rose. The King immediately decreed that the bird be acquired and kept safe in the palace, lest it fall pray to some predator and the song be lost forever. So the servant cupped the tiny bird between her palms, and brought it back to the palace. The King had his armory make a beautiful silver cage for this very special bird. It was sculpted carefully so that the bars were in the shape of a dozen different trees, and the perch was a delicate silver rose petal, just like the one they had found the bird on. The King watched the bird as it sat in its silver cage, waiting for it to share again its beautiful and haunting melody. He waited, and waited, and waited. But the bird did not sing. It must not be comfortable, he thought to himself. And so he ordered another cage made, this time of gold. And he placed the bird to perch on the golden rose at its centre. He ordered that small trees and plants and shrubs be brought into the royal chamber, so the bird would feel at home. And he hid behind one of these, so he could hear the bird sing. The rich and powerful King waited. And waited. And waited. But the bird did not sing. And so, frustrated, he ordered a cage made of diamonds and rubies and precious stones, and that the perch be a rose petal of pure ivory. The artisans and craftsmen labored, and soon a cage was made that itself would have been a wonder of the world. But the King waited. And the bird did not sing. In anger and frustration, the King broke the cage, the rubies and diamonds scattered all over the floor of the royal chamber, the ivory rose cracked against the wall, and he hurled the bird out of the window. He stood there at the centre of the carnage, panting and grinding his teeth, while the bird found a new perch on the balcony. It looked at him, cocked its head to the side as if curious. And sang. The King immediately realized his mistake and was overcome by shame. How could a bird sing when it is caged? He berated himself for being such a fool. A smile spread across his face. This was a life changing experience. A caged bird does not sing. Feeling refreshed, reborn even, the King was content to merely listen to the bird from afar. Never again would he try to cage the things he desired. The bird finished its song and took flight, only to be caught in midair by a falcon, and devoured.
Posted on: Fri, 16 May 2014 04:43:47 +0000
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