The legend of the Thornbird

There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth.

From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out- carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain… Or so says the legend.

A mysterious bird who sings just once in life, the sweetest song ever to be heard. In fierce pursuit of the thorn tree, the Thornbird leaves its nest and does not rest until it has fulfilled its final quest. Silent its entire life until the final hour, its voice begins to float through the air and the whole world stops to listen to the music from the tree. And God looks down and smiles upon the beautiful melody. More lovely than the Nightingale, more melodious than the Lark, the very first song it sings comes flowing from its heart before dying among the thorns. What kind of bird would save so sweet a song until the end of its life? Its months of utter silence and then one single ballad to transcend toward the heavens.

Who is this peculiar creature, who would so beguile and mystify us with its exotic, bewildering and transforming song?“When we press the thorn to our chest we know, we understand, and still we do it.”

“Each of us has something within us which won't be denied, even if it makes us scream aloud to die. We are what we are, that's all. Like the old Celtic legend of the bird with the thorn in its breast, singing its heart out and dying. Because it has to, its self-knowledge can't affect or change the outcome, can it? Everyone singing his own little song, convinced it's the most wonderful song the world has ever heard. Don't you see? We create our own thorns, and never stop to count the cost. All we can do is suffer the pain, and tell ourselves it was well worth it.”

The Thornbird pays it's life for that one song, and the whole world stills to listen, and God in his heaven smiles, as it's best is brought only at the cost of great pain; Driven to the thorn with no knowledge of the dying to come. But when we press the thorn to our breast, we know, we understand.... and still, we do it." The bird with the thorn in its breast, it follows an immutable law; it is driven by it knows not what to impale itself, and die singing. At the very instant the thorn enters there is no awareness in it of the dying to come; it simply sings and sings until there is not the life left to utter another note.