Rumi

There is a tree by the water that is older than most names. Rumi sits there. He has always sat there. Nobody knows when he arrived — but sometimes in the morning, when the mist lies low, you can see the impression of him in the branch. As if he just disappeared into something.

He always carries a folded note that is never opened. But he places his wingtip on it sometimes — quietly, without looking down — when someone near him is close to understanding something important.

Parrots live for eighty years — longer than most humans. A parrot can carry memories from your grandfather's childhood and things you will never get to see. Rumi has lived through seven human lifetimes and forgotten nothing.

Around Rumi you feel that you are part of something much bigger. As if you are suddenly connected to the entire universe — and the universe is listening back.