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Lysander Gray Nov 2011
"O son, hark ye to the rainbird's call." Said father to son as the golden light spilled out the fireplace, casting their backs into darkness. "O son, hark ye to the rainbird's call, for when the rainbirds are a-comin' the times are a-changin."

Son's wide eyes soaked in the golden fireplace light and the sound of father's voice.

"O the rainbirds, they's a-comin'. They's call ain't like the call of no other bird. Yer a familiar with the warblings and the cawings and the baying's and the singing's of other birds. The rainbird, he don't sound like that. When the rainbird a comes a callin', you best be knowin' his sound. For he don't warble or caw or bay or sing, on no, he don't warble or caw or bay or sing. He's a makin' a different sound all together. O the rainbird, when he comes a callin' you'll a-know its him."

Father puffed long on a clay pipe, his voice accompanied by the sounds of a thousand night critters a-haunting the outside world with their chitin wings and nightmare fur and ebony eyes, shining through the night. O yes, father puffed long on a clay pipe.

"Son, when the rainbird calls. He drowns out the other birds, ya wont be hearin' no warbling or cawin' or bayin' or singing. When the rainbird a-opens his beak, all ye hear is a marked silence from the other birds. O they is still singing, mind you they is still singing, but that ******* the rainbird, he dun drown them out with his silent call. Son. That is how you know the rainbird's callin'."

The golden light kept a-burning, and the fire was a-crackling as the night was a runnin' over the valleys skies. And father kept a-talkin' and his pipe; he kept a-lightin'.

"Son, that is the sound of the rainbird's call. He don't call much round here in the valley, but when he does, you hear the times are a-changin'. And when the rainbird sings, o son! When the rainbird sings! He BELLOWS! And he SINGS! And the valley will shudder with his song. When he sings, the valley will shudder and the darkness will come, for he be callin' on all dem other rainbird's. And they be comin' and the sky will darken like night and they'll a come, like a cloud, they'll a come. And they's flappin' wings will a-shake and a shudder the valley, and they'll a **** lightning and his brethren, his brothers will a-light down and they be filling the valley with their rain and their **** and the times will be a changin. Oh they be a changing."

Son's ears heard the tale of the rainbird that father told him, son believed the tale father told him. He believed, for the night birds did suddenly fall silent all through the velvet darkness outside the shack, and the air was a markedly different thing from what it was before, and the fire sputtered as the rainbird called. It sputtered…it sputtered…it sputtered.
K Balachandran Jul 2013
I heard, my  rainbird singing Meghmalhar* alone,
my heart was broken in to pieces, as her wistful tune hit it,
her swansong it was, I realized.
I knew grief was her wings, how can I make her confine
to this garden and sing, when she wants to be on the wings?
I watched her from behind the bushes
thinking to give her the freedom to sing her swansong.
In to the  rain clouds , she flew up, only a feather she left behind,
for all the memories of my music filled days with her.
Torrential monsoon rains lashed, thunderclaps and lightening
made the sky a war zone, I saw her
flying in to the heart of danger, without concern,
my eyes followed her far and away, one last time,
a drop of tear on the corner of my eye,
sears my soul all the time.
*Meghmalhar is a classical  Indian (Hindustani) tune(Raag),the name derived from Cloud(Megh).Legends say that this "Raag" when sung in its sublime form has the power to bring rain in the area it is sung.
Chantell Wild  Feb 2019
Rainbird
Chantell Wild Feb 2019
rain kissed wing tips dip and dive
claws curled up on the wires
that bind us
ill conceived desires reign a planet
with the tears of another child born
in a cage bound for the stage
Freedom lies in the wings
in that song that the rainbird sings
Time Flies By
You are the Bird on a Wing.
Flying with your Flock
As you fly
You sing

High above the clouds you soar...
such a great feeling
Than being grounded  before.

Nothing to hold you back
Fearless like an Eagle

You are the "RainBird"
with the winds of strength to guide your attack.
David Adamson Aug 2015
I

We played kick the can
Where the sidewalk cracked,
Ruptured by a cottonwood’s roots.  
Then winds from the canyon came rushing
Through the leaves of the tall cottonwoods
(I believed that sound was the sound
Of time rushing away),
And sent us home.

I paused on the front porch.
From across the street a faint mist drifted,  
Rainbird spray from Reservoir Park,
Chuff chuff chuff chuff
Chuff-chuff-chuff-chuff-chuff- chuff-chuff-chuff.
At the horizon beyond the park,
Jagged streaks of pink tapered into purplish dusk
Above the shrinking mirror of Great Salt Lake.

II

I entered the silent house
Where something strange was taking place.  
Darkness billowed from the living room couch.
Ink oozed from unlit lamps.
Shadows deformed familiar shapes:  
Chairs, an end table, a portrait, the piano,
A piece of driftwood from the Dead Sea.
I watched my hands flicker,
Merge into shade, dissolve.
I stood trying to grasp
What the darkness was doing.    

Then an engine hummed in the driveway,  
Tires crunching asphalt,
A car hummed into the garage. Voices.
The kitchen door opened.
The darkness retreated
Behind the sofa and beneath solid chairs.  
The simple shapes returned,
Pulled across a boundary into night
From a summer evening on University Street.
This "University Street" is a small lane in Salt Lake City Utah near the U. of Utah.
She was born from a spark called "The Little ******."
An Obsessed Organization of Science thought that they could tame her.
Wrong they were. The burns started to hurt.
The pockets of the public paying for answers
To lies of aa Mental Medicine Breakthrough
Which Lead All Who Created it to ashes and Dirt.
Her Dad tried to keep her safe, "His Little ******."
Forced apart by The Government for their bidding
Took a mother to her grave and a father to his ending.
Now she must finish what they had started.
A drug on test shelves. At a small town University.
No student wants this "Psyche-High"
Not even the heaviest in Druggie Sororities.
The smoke remains and the smell of fear.
She lights the match which is her mind.
"Little ******" has shown those "Evil Think Tanks"
How melted torture leads to an unbreakable spine which it did bind.
Together in a swift and blurred moment.
There she goes.
"The Little ******" goes to her future.
No more chasing....From those Who Thirst For Mental Warfare...
The twisted plot of creating  weapons of the mind...
Lies in ashes as she wipes tears from the force that came
from the same kind.
"I did it for you,Daddy." She exclaimed as The Rainbird Can never fly again.
She protects those who are haunted by genetic's and their unchosen paths....
By the "Bigger Minds" that brought the chemicals through the parent's veins.
Now the records are in vaults as the government seals it with
the blood of a fallen strain...
Of a new hu"man-kind...?"
That was the notion. Evolution Forced too quickly.
Now "The Little ******" shall force Them to Bide by her
terms and the heart from endearment of moments of the same kind.
Flashes Back to moments. Now smoking History.
"Little ******" has brought peace to all of the fallen Souls
Locked in her heart's memory.
A Tribute Poem to the Movies "Fire starter(1984," "Fire-starter 2 rekindled," and My Favorite Author and Inspiration who wrote these Novels that inspired these movies, Stephen King.Charlie Mcgee is "The Little ******."

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