Seeds ...

“Seeds.”
Some seeds.”

”I would like some.”

“What would you like?”

”Some seeds!”

”I would like some seeds.”

And so it began, our clever boy, our maroon-bellied, gold-breasted fancy green-cheeked conure, Gadget,
who not only learned to speak in complete sentences,
but also understood the differences in personal pronouns
and used them appropriately!
By this, I mean, he knew the difference between the nominative and objective pronouns
he said “I” when he meant himself
and “you” when he meant ourselves.
Beyond uncanny.

Gadget, my dear bird-son, my beloved boy.
You were/are so smart, so aware, so alive.
In every picture I took of you, you are looking right at me.
You always knew.
You have an old soul.

This mother’s day I grieve you and my mom.
You left us in 2016, breaking our hearts.
You broke Papa’s to its foundation, and damn near mine too …
Mom left in 2019, three days from 2020 …
and that leaving broke my heart in ways I could not have imagined
and am still assimilating to …
but I feel you still, and her—though it is different.
I think Papa is afraid to do.
In his world nothing good came of believing something out of the supernatural
and religion only hurt you.
And so I believe also, but ...
in my world, nature was alive and remains so still
I found my comfort in snow and trees and wind and rain
and animals, for me, always
always
are more compelling than most humans.
Supernatural from whence we both came.

You come to me in dreams, and
I feel you over my shoulder when I am afraid.
I imagine you and Snowflake in an alliance of sorts
taking turns roaming, patrolling,
one hanging onto my collar
or soaring high above,
the other wending herself in my steps
warming my stomach as I sleep
ranging far and hunting …
both in dragon tail and armour,
forged talons and weapons
unworldy
communing with trees and snow and wind
prescient
the strength of in-between
and the horizon of all worlds past and present …

”shhh … “

thank you thank you thank you.

I miss you more than I can ever
ever
say, and Que treads slowly
so slowly
into her night cage
still.

Please visit Papa soon
bite him if he needs it to know you!
And snuggle Que.

You have my heart, Little One.