I Shall Not Live in Vain

After putting her on that perch, she just stared back, not moving, not trying to go anywhere else.

This morning gave me reason to recite one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson.  She wrote, in these few simple and profound lines, the most poetic purpose statement for one in search of life's significance.

"If I can stop one heart from aching,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain."

I was clearing weeds when a tiny bird suddenly fell against her back on the foliage in front of me.  She seemed dazed.   I assumed she fell from the Santol tree while strengthening her wings.  She could not fly high or far enough and didn't try hard to fly away from my hands.  I couldn't leave her on the ground because I have two cats that are excellent hunters.  She would be easy prey for these highly experienced felines that I have seen climb and jump to successfully catch birds, geckos, and skinks, and rats.

Google Lens identified the bird as a Stripe-headed Rhabdornis, an endemic species that forages on insects and nectar--thus encouraging me to grow more flowering plants and vines. Since I didn't find her nest, I helped the bird perch on a low Lubi-lubi branch so I could check on her from afar.  

For at least an hour she stayed there, her eyes gazing toward where I was. As the morning became hotter, I went to check on her a few more times.

The morning was bright and beautiful,

During a short break from the morning's activities, I went to check on her again. She was already on the ground, still warm but lifeless.

I didn't expect the day that started bright and beautiful would suddenly change before morning even ended.

There are times like these when we fail even in our sincerest desire to help.  We want to help but we are helpless.  Was it worth it?  Are the efforts, the emotions we spend for others worth it when our efforts fail? Maybe, maybe not.

Nevertheless, I still stubbornly cling to "it is better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all".  I'm just stupid that way.

I held the bird until its warm, soft, fragile body transitioned to rigor mortis.  I could not sing her a song, I could not think of memories with her, I could not pay her tribute because I knew her for such a short and fleeting time.

In order to move on and make sense of my morning, I consoled myself knowing that this animal, even though it doesn't have a soul, felt important and not alone, during the last hours of her short, beautiful life.  I like to think that when she closed her eyes for the last time, she felt that someone cared and to another being, she mattered.

Despite the sad, anticlimactic ending, I still hope that today I did not live in vain.

This is how she looked like when I first saw her.