Bird Medicine

A Message from Pigeon

you agree on tree
you agree on cat

yet Pigeon
is not symbiotic
but a flying rat

DISCLAIMER: “This message was interpreted for you by your local Bird-man. I am a registered Native Dutch, and I am the only person LEGALLY allowed to handle pigeons and other pecking birds in my domain. If you are not native you can keep almost any other bird. Just be sure to research what birds are legal for you to own. This will get you some serious jail time!!!”

MESSAGE: Hey, human! Yeah, you. Up here! Can you see us? We are Pigeon. We’ve been here long time. A very long time. And it is about time we talk, because you’ve forgotten about us.

Once, all was beautiful. You understood. We talked. The castles you built, the churches you constructed, with spires soaring high into the sky, you designed so you could climb up and meet us. If a Pigeon would nest on the high stone, it was pure honor, it was pure bliss, we were not ‘a problem’.

Back then we were not just a mere symbol of peace. We were the peace. When humans flourish, when the people build beauty, when you are wealthy, you are generous. You got excess. You can spare for a pretty little bird with food in plenty. Each of you carried a small bag of sunflower seeds and nuts in your pocket. You fed us, took care of us, revered us, loved us. We Pigeons and humans prospered. A town with a big flock is rich. We birds are not symbol. Peace is not notion. When Pigeon’s in town, the fight is over. Reality is tranquility. Peace incarnate.

But that was long ago. War rages now. You can’t see us no more. You have forgotten your ways. You have relegated us, dismembered us, profaned us. You blindly walk in a fog of confusion. Rushing from one place to the next, like a scared animal, afraid to look back, running away from your hunting devil. Blasting through on your machines, unconcerned a feathered obstacle lays dead in your wake. Distracted. Aggressive. Insensitive. You don’t know what you do. You are sick.

Yes, we eye you from the roof, from the chimney, from the branch. You carry bad virus. You afraid of bird. Kick bird you. There’s an unconscious circuit in your leg, repelling us. Do you know what you are doing? Your mother or father taught you to behave like this. We see parents teach on the street everyday. It used to be they instruct to feed. Some still know. But your parents have amnesia. They don’t know bird, hence raise a child like that. To kick Pigeon. To scare Pigeon. Ornithologically incorrect. But your loss. Do you think we care? We can fly.

Bird sovereign. We don’t need you. We are strong program. We are feathered serpent of grand ancient lineage. We peck and leave no seed unturned. We suffer, but we don’t hold on. We is light, beyond grief. We ascend all, autonomously, proliferatingly, perpetuatingly, naturally, pruned, intelligently, existing without. We can feed ourselves, you know. You humans have the privilege to cater us. Your loss, if you can’t. Pigeon perches patiently but won’t land on empty hand.

Pigeon dead. Are you smart? Do you know we can’t bury ourselves. You see now? We have wings not hands. Why do you leave us behind after you kill the bird? In the gutter, on the street, in the middle of the market square in the pouring rain. You leave us there and wait for someone else to do something. Do you believe your fellows properly pick up and perform a funeral for a pretty pidge? Garbage bin. Next to everything else you don’t use. Don’t you love a little bird? We shall die anyway. Opportunity rests with you.

The Nihonese Dove murmurs in the moonlight. We listen. We have interdimensional access. Do you know western technology arrived in Japan through the Dutch? The Republic of the Netherlands was chosen to be solely allowed to set up a trading post at Deshima, Nagasaki. They didn’t want to deal with Portuguese catholic converters or any foreign influence. Conversely, the Dutch incentive was profit. But without the lowland connection, Japan would have remained an island, isolated, confined to itself, and not the modern industrial super power as we know today. Rangaku. Dutch studies.

To us you are the Japan. Human island. There’s no information exchange. But we Pigeons are Dutch. We have been here forever. We maintain trading posts globally. And for a daily hazel, walnut, or a handful of cacao nibs, we shall deliver strong medicine. Are you sick to the bone? Do you need a cure? Do you feel desperately at dis-ease? Come to us.

We will talk. We will teach. We won't deny.

We Pigeon fly.