Nikola and the Pigeon

Please read The Quandary first this is the second in the series. Know that part of this story poem is from facts about Nikola Tesla.

Nikola and the Pigeon

It is fitting that the poet begins this tale.

It happened on the Eve of the seventh day of the first month.

Many decades ago, even before I was born a part of me died.

As this night is, so long ago that night was the same.

The stars blazed in the black cold sky with a moon that was barely there.

To those who found me, I appeared to be alone, but I was not.

I think this must be told by the one who was there.

For my end then was so cloudy and confused for me.

I fear I am a sad sight floundering here in my brokenness.

Many lifetimes I have been stuck in this form.

I was once a queen, a gypsy and many other things.

Each lifetime in this form I have searched for him.

Once when I was pure white with gray tips upon my wings,

I found him, day after day as he cast food upon the ground.

I tried desperately to show him who I was to no avail.

My time in that body was nearing its end.

One final night as I felt the life ebbing out of me,

I flew through a window into his room.

Summoning up all the magic that was in me, I tried again.

He saw the light streaming from my eyes.

Almost I could see he might know who I was.

To the floor, that body fell and as my spirit fled.

As he faded from my sight, I perceive something coming from him.

It was not right it seemed twisted and sad.

My last thought then was he did not yet understand.

Now here I am again in yet another body at the end.

My wing is broken, and I cannot fly.

You say why did I not go back to him, as soon as I could.

Oh, I tried, when this body was fresh and young, I searched.

I went back to the place he was, but he was gone.

Fear I will die soon and again be reborn in the same form.

Suddenly, I hear a voice behind me, but I do not fear it.

Oh little one you are sad sorry sight, his voice softly says.

As he picks me up, my heart beats strong again for I see it is him.

His warm hands wrap gently around me as he picks me up.

There is so much I have to tell you I try to get him to understand.

Sadly, I can tell he only hears my cooing.

Your heart is beating so fast, be calm he quietly tells me.

As we get close to a building, he tucks me under his coat.

I must sneak you in, he tells me as he goes inside.

His body heat feels so good to me, and I relax and fall asleep.

He is wrapping my broken wing as I wake.

His hands are so gently upon me.

He finishes and gazes into my eyes.

I can't help thinking I know you he says.

Your coloring is so unique I have seen none like it.

It looks three bands of silver, gold and bronze.

Twisting around each other and that green spot looks like a gem.

You are one beautiful bird you know.

Cooing softly I nudge my head against his hand.

It is then I realize the problem; he has no magic.

Something in this world and time has robbed him of it.

I can see so clearly into his mind and his heart.

He has been trapped in this body all these years.

Throughout them all he has been alone.

His scientific research and his inventions are his only passions.

His synesthetic visions plague him and bless him,

However, in this body, he sees nothing of the heart.

He places me on his bed and lies beside me.

I am too weak and old I tell him as he caresses me.

He says so am I my beautiful one, mo anamchara.

In surprise, I see his heart and mind opening in understanding.

He knows who he is now, and the lost time breaks his heart.

As his heart stops so does mine.

This I time I know we will move on to a different time.

Another universe and time await us.

Hopefully, this time we will find each other sooner.

The poet puts down his pen.

He spies the clock and sees it is half past ten in the evening.

One more time he checks the time-line of the facts.

Tears come to his dark-brown eyes,

As he sees that it is the same time it was that day of their end.

Author's Note

The graphic with this poem is used with permission from: https://whisperingcraneinstitute.wordpress.com/2013/07/11/nikola-tesla-scientist/

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

Right at the beginning, you drew me in with "even before I was born a part of me died." Then lines like, "My time in that body was nearing its end," were so intriguing, I had to keep reading. Have to say, this is really more of a story than a poem although you posted it in a poetry form. The concept of people or animals coming back many times in a different forms yet always finding each other is a magical one. You told a wonderful story here and the graphics you posted with the writing was apropos. Thank you for sending me the link to this. Lydi**

[H.L. Cerveise]

Thank you. I agree with you. It is a story poem. I have written a number of them that way. I wish they had a category here called story poem or poem story. Sometime read my poem, The Quandary it is really the first in this series of story poems. Some day I will attach these two and many others together in a book along with the complete story attached.

[Lydia Shutter]

Sounds like a good idea. When I have time I will read more. Lydi*

[Coyote Poetry]

A sad told in the poetry my friend.
"The poet puts down his pen.
He spies the clock and sees it is half past ten in the evening.
One more time he checks the time-line of the facts.
Tears come to his dark-brown eyes,
As he sees that it is the same time it was that day of their end."
The above lines can be true for the all of us. Finding same place and sadness. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[H.L. Cerveise]

Thanks for reading and reviewing this writing. I have not been around much lately due to family issues. I hope to get back into reviewing here soon. I am glad you liked it.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did my friend and you are welcome.

[Zaliodir]

Oh, I love this! I have always admired Tesla anyway, and to present the idea that he was a magician without his magic, its just mind blowing. Genius comes in many forms, and it is fitting that a man who was a genius with energy should be really a magician. Wonderful write! =)

[H.L. Cerveise]

I have been an admire of Tesla since I was a teenager. One of my Internet radio stations is named in his honor, Tesla Coil Radio. I also worked in the white pigeon that is a historic fact. See: http://www.teslauniverse.com/nikola-tesla/timeline/1922-teslas-favorite-pigeon-dies for the real story. Nikola Tesla is one of the psyches that is strong inside me, big grin.

I am glad you saw so much in this writing.

[Emily]

Loved it!!
Very well written!!
Keep it up!

[Diane]

I like this a lot. "I fear I am a sad sight floundering here in my brokenness." awesome when a line of words pop out at you.

[H.L. Cerveise]

Thank you, glad you found something that impacted you. We all often are broken, and I was trying to show that feeling but also show how in the end it can come together in a good way.

[Diane]

well, you nailed it!

[Vatsal Rohilla (account..]

This is a quite nice tale of a bird and a human. The way you have described all the events- like how the bird enters the boy's window and how the boy caresses it- is simply wonderful. This is one of those few long poems that I have ever read. You kept me engaged till the last- this is a very good thing. A good writer must know how to engage the reader.
A very nice theme to write about. Keep writing.