A lyrebird looks up,
sees the clouds have consumed the sky again,
its blue song silenced, and is gratified -
it is hard to hold in view what you cannot reach
when you are clumsy-winged and awkward.
Grounded, they run, they dance, and
earth-bound, fright is more the flight
of a lyrebird, tail feathers
of finely strung filaments in vibration,
in gravid harmony with the understory
of a forest.
I have always been afraid,
though I have tried to emulate the confidence
built from nurture, but security can't be constructed
in the absence of care: no pretence
can make you safer.
A lyrebird imitates, fools
in the mimicry of its universe, music
played with the chords of others, for love,
a lie for love, and this is my tune -
it is the only thing about me that is beautiful.
Image is from here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Menura_superba_-_Thomas_Davies.jpg
Lyrebirds are amazing. Here is a video of their mimicry (although this video has been argued about because lyrebirds, in general, only mimic other birds, as opposed to chainsaws etc, and it has been said that whilst the birds in this video had mimicked urban sounds that this was only because they had been kept in a zoo - but I don't know what the truth is, and besides, they're still fantastic birds). https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mSB71jNq-yQ