the Christ Child is made out of African butterfly wings. (CR Staff/George P. Matysek Jr
When your butterflies flutter peacefully and become my Mother, then does Nightbird sing of some joy for the sun in us, on earth. No one wants to be orphans
without you we are ...
Let it rain!
There was a time our dry banana fibres also became you and we loved your warmth. You filled our homes with rainbows. We walked everywhere in awe as the floor showed it has seen you passing on a cloud. You took the home of tobacco and turned it into that of silent conviction.
But when the time to speak came, you were not silent. History is selected. Privacy has hidden treasures. It is necessary but not permanently? And not when it protects tomorrow´s explosion!
Ah, would silence reign for peace!
Long ago people shook hands to show that they were friendly and not armed. In the part of Afrika where Nightbird conceived, a peace branch is waved BY MEN to stop war. Signs means something more than words. The women live in the hope of not attacking them and children. Never.
There are peace trees. What about this? Are there signs to stop poverty and hunger, other wars? Now arms are more in the soul and in the mind?
Nightbird thought hard and answered, "It appears that we have to get bare. We must tell one another what really is inside there, what we have been teaching and hiding at the same time? Does it match? What we really think and what drives what fear? Why are we so private when it comes to our roots as souls? Should that separate us that much or so dangerously? Nightbird is just trying to find out.
Last week Nightbird and her friend Fatuma were discussing the attacks on Paris, Garissa, Beirut and so many places as well as crusades by Christians in the past and conversions by force. Nightbird agreed this was ugly and so much has been so. But they focused on beauty. Fatuma said beautiful is the sura on Maryamu in the Quran, very beautiful, she said because it explains so clearly how Maryamu was a single mother who conceived by a miracle.
Nightbird was rather intrigued. How little she knows.
Fatuma told Nightbird that when she is depressed she goes to St. Michael, a church in the city where she comes from and finds a corner where she said Maryamu is.
It turns out that it is the statue of Lourdes Mother that is there. And then Fatuma said, all the doubts disappear, the pain and the confusion and for a while, she feels a soft breeze consoling her. Nightbird could only stare. When she was there last, she only saw a dark reflection of the same statue. Or so she thought.
She considered it strange, but when Fatuma, a refugee, got her permission to live in that city, she run straight to the Lady, to thank her. She said she learnt from Eastern Europeans whom Maria is. They came from a land where they were fighting each other on ethno-religious differences.
Why are we so concerned about what moves a radical to terror... if we hide our own convictions so much, or even visions unless they are being reported for funding? There is a vacuum then? Nature does not respect it.
Or why do we always show our ´mission´ and ´vision´ in a mathematical way which suits the economy if the result we want is freedom and social cohesion? Who steps out when it comes to ´what do you believe?´ which seems today to be the same as ´what do you think?´ Are these the same things, to think and to believe?
I revere your silent secrecy, and not having everything, everywhere is key too. We need oases of peace and privacy but only when their results are a surprising impetus for good in our lives and those of nature. Like that.
We try to transform other materials into new and beautiful things. Who can teach us to transform inhumanity to humanity and defeat inhumanity of violence. Nightbird carries words.
When your butterflies flutter peacefully and become my Mother, then does Nightbird sing of some joy for the sun in us, the world. No one wants to be orphaned.
Everyone wants to be enveloped by happy nature in which one can see the images of things one loves.
Like a tall giraffe walking as if on a cloud. Like an ocean coming home as if it is leaving ....
In the night, Nightbird sees trees becoming elephants and rivers singing silvery tears ring. In the morning buildings are part of the sky in harmony with the stars as the celebrated feast of Christmas. Has it got anything to do with faith for many?
Who said a certain friendliness is not faith? Happy Diwali, we all love light? But nightbird manages. Where does she begin to tell the story of how...interesting life can be? From being a foetus?
Hearing takes priority in the human being that is yet unborn not sight. Nightbird listens. It is said to be the same about a faith, one might have, not have or may have heard about, but sometimes both come into play, Nightbird has learned at the same time.
Nightbird calls on, again... for a mother...and now Nightbird wills that she turns all colors. Nightbird is happy in their darkness they share. Nightbird loves her black and tells her..that so black she should return to Europe where her songs could be louder. Her hugs. Her mystical ways. These are not about any one teaching. To be mystical you touch all by touching one.
Nightbird, stop getting so preachy and excited, just wait!
No she answers, there is here a story that is interesting since NOBODY is pushed to believe it or in any apparition.
From the middle ages to this day, a figure of someone referred to as Mother, woman, Lady... Virgin... keeps appearing to different people with the same messages. Those who see her report great joy.
She warns of the loss of joy through her tears. Wars, genocides, lack of peace, ethnic hatred, hungry power, greed... all the anxiety that results from these she does NOT at all like. She suffers and sheds tears all the time. But freedom is her key and not force. Her dazzling light does not take away the responsibility to see with plain sight.
Who is she? She loves flowers and colors, who is she? She does not like it when people are sick and tired and heals whilst reminding of the pain that all human beings must suffer, in her words, the cross. Whose daughter is this?
|Our Lady Of Afrika|
Restless beyond what any fiction or truth can tell Nightbird is. Is there a new coming? She kept asking. So, then Nightbird took a long break, and in silent darkness she listened.
Sometimes in the darkness of the night
an owl sings how she knows.
And we all say she hoots,
and many yell foul,
as if in sport competition.
But still be the midnight´s silence,
the owl just sings,
and the moon washes her tears.
She is an owl bright and clear,
a star whether elf or giant
One night, the owl hears
the only answer,
from a little flower struggling to grow
in a forest beneath so many huge trees.
To sight the moon is gentle,
the owl hears.
To look the sun --
is hard even where it shines,
The whole sun to see in a ray,
a rare gift,
of her sharp sight.
The owl shares the moon with the little flower sun
and we do not understand,
their sweet caress,
and their silent sound,
they fear us!
Philo Ikonya, Out of Prison- Love Songs, Locker, Wien. 2010
"To sight the moon is gentle. The whole sun to see in a ray."
Nightbird is awake when the moon begins to meet the sun. The Morning Star has fascinated her with its absolute beauty on winter mornings, no matter. Stars still flicker. And she turns north and south. Back to the woman, Lady...Mother.
Nightbird understands her concern with social issues is what many people fear is political and very sensitive. In Fatima, named after Mohamed´s daughter who was married to a Christian there, the Lad left a message about the conversion of Russia and told about the problems of 1917, the revolution. It was so serious that St. John Paul II did what the Lady wanted in 1985. He consecrated Russia to her. What does that mean? Nightbird does not know.
Nightbird has also discovered that the Lady is revered as Mother of All Nations. The Lady is concerned for all history and powers of nations.
Why not dark, why not African? Now Nightbird has seen records of that is where she started showing up. She knew Egypt on foot. And then it turns out that some months before Nightbird asked her that she had been there, back there in her mystical form and beauty.
Many of her visits are not recognised but they persist for years even when some thought that it was all hysteria... but the people say she was there, is there, and everything aligns itself in order. In Kenya she has a village in Subukia. The waters there heal or comfort and there is a way of cross in the trees.
In Mukuyu- Ini or Mũkũyũ-inĩ, Koma Rock in Kayole Nairobi and now in Machakos somewhere, there is always her sound. She is there.
In a place called Kibeho, in Rwanda, she appeared speaking of the terror that would come if the people did not pray hard enough. Her message there, in 1982, is just as she gave it in Sweden to a woman later to be known as St. Bridget of Sweden in 1343. Her message: Think of my Seven sorrows. In 1876, her visit was approved in France and she became a public entity for those who will at Lourdes.
She was always pleading about nations, economic problems, wars, genocides like someone who had read history before her story was on earth. And now at Medjugorje, Bosnia where so many Serbs died and where again religions clashed, she is attracting millions. Terror repels. She attracts like a magnet. People run to such a possibility and will even crawl there to see where it is said she stood and is waiting to bring about something that will baffle all nations.
Nightbird belongs to the world which wants stars, no matter how far one has to go. The world that aligns with light and victory no matter how dark the night is. For actually the most amazing miracle Nightbird knows right now is how the dream of possible peace and a happier world fights inside most people. Never dies. Can never be terrorised. Millions of people have hope. That is not news. It is the story of Nightbird blogging gone nuts!