For some are not meant for the unbearable lightness of being...
Long ago, there was a bird who sang just once in its life.
From the moment it left its nest, it searched for a thorn tree and it never rested until it found one. Then it began to sing more sweetly than any creature on the face of the earth. And singing, it impaled its breast on the longest, sharpest thorn. But as it was dying, it rose above its own agony to out-sing the lark and the nightingale.
The thorn bird pays its life for that one song and the whole world stills to listen and God in heaven smiles. As its best was bought 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.
- Excerpt from 'The Thorn Birds' by Colleen McCullough
P.S.: I'd thought I'd never post another's writings here, but there comes a time when one changes one's mind.
Long ago, there was a bird who sang just once in its life.
From the moment it left its nest, it searched for a thorn tree and it never rested until it found one. Then it began to sing more sweetly than any creature on the face of the earth. And singing, it impaled its breast on the longest, sharpest thorn. But as it was dying, it rose above its own agony to out-sing the lark and the nightingale.
The thorn bird pays its life for that one song and the whole world stills to listen and God in heaven smiles. As its best was bought 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.
- Excerpt from 'The Thorn Birds' by Colleen McCullough
P.S.: I'd thought I'd never post another's writings here, but there comes a time when one changes one's mind.
