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<\/p>\nEagle\u2019s<\/b> Wings<\/b><\/p>\n
There is a story about a traveller who, climbing among<\/p>\n
mountains, came upon a village. Ramshackle and uncared for, it\u2019s<\/p>\n
dwellings pitched here and there on sodden ground, its tenuous<\/p>\n
life seemed almost exhausted.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Passing through the outskirtshe noticed an eagle in a man’s<\/p>\n
yard. It was tied by its neck to a post. In its distress it had circled<\/p>\n
the post many times causing a deep rut to be formed in the mud.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The traveller was filled with pity, “If only I could set the<\/p>\n
golden bird free”. He entered the yard and, going up to a small<\/p>\n
hut, spoke to the ‘owner’ who was standing in a doorway. Would<\/p>\n
it be possible to free the bird? \u00a0But the owner was a narrow-minded<\/p>\n
cantankerous fellow by all accounts and wouldn’t agree to it at any<\/p>\n
price. \u00a0Nevertheless the matter was eventually settled for a substan-<\/p>\n
tial payment in favour of the bird being cut loose. Straightaway<\/p>\n
the traveller went up to the bird, cut the cord, and stood back,<\/p>\n
pleased. The bird looked up, and then about itself warily – as if<\/p>\n
catching sight of something in the distance. Then it lowered its<\/p>\n
head and continued on its way – round its own circumscribed cir-<\/p>\n
cular path. \u00a0Its rut. The owner looked on from a distance, secretly<\/p>\n
pleased.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The traveller stood by for some time. Days and weeks<\/p>\n
passed. It seemed the bird had no interest in flying. Sometimes the<\/p>\n
traveller would encourage it to leave its rut. The bird would stop<\/p>\n
for a moment, look about itself and scratch the earth to the side<\/p>\n
before restarting its awful round – its world – its painful journey<\/p>\n
from birth to death.<\/p>\n
Months paused. Finally the bird would leave its rut, hop<\/p>\n
about a bit and explore the ground beyond. It seemed to take an<\/p>\n
interest in a wider world. But at night, when the sun went down,<\/p>\n
it would sadly return to it.\u00a0 Its dark home.<\/p>\n
Even so, the traveller was much encouraged. He would hop<\/p>\n
about with the bird, shouting and waving his arms. How absurd<\/p>\n
he looked!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
At last there came a warm day and with it a fresh breeze,<\/p>\n
The bird, feeling content, spread its wings and – left the ground.<\/p>\n
Ahah. Ahah……..ahah…..AHAH!<\/p>\n
It spent that night on better ground.\u00a0 In time it scarcely re-<\/p>\n
turned to its rut. The little flights became longer – bird and trav-<\/p>\n
eller side by side.<\/p>\n
A morning came when the traveller awoke to find the bird<\/p>\n
gone.\u00a0 A great joy arose in him and around him and above him – it<\/p>\n
penetrated to the very heavens.\u00a0 There, a golden form rose up – the<\/p>\n
sovereign Lord of the Skies.\u00a0 Born up by the wind, gliding<\/p>\n
serenely with wings outstretched, eyes glittering in the sun, He<\/p>\n
watched over his true domain. What joy!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
What extraordinary freedom! How fortunate we are.<\/b><\/p>\n
\u00a0 <\/b><\/p>\n
\u00a0 Rinchen<\/b><\/p>\n
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