~ On the wings of the whirlwind ~

There’s a genie from the magic lamp that is as old and powerful as the time itself, the master of space and insignificant lives. We cannot see it; we only hear its steps. It takes away and destroys our hopes and dreams, our hearths and homes. Only the windmills, ships, kites, balloons and even some birds look forward to it. Its name is Whirlwind. It comes and goes whenever it wants. Often unannounced, it surprises us unprepared and steals from us our moments in which we do not have time to think. At these moments we are only aware of the fact that we have to flee. Merciless and inexorable, it takes on its wings weak and helpless birds that don’t have time to grow up and that cannot find shelter. They believe that they would be better off on its wings. They yield to its power and set off into the unknown. Sometimes, these birds come back. Perhaps they are afraid of what is familiar to them, or they are just running away from life, from themselves. Leaving is often the only solution for them. They leave behind their own little ones who, with grief in their eyes, observe them disappearing in the vortex of furious winds, and who only have to wait for carrier-pigeons and some new whirlwinds, with the hope of seeing them again. Some birds have to fly. Everything they’ve got is just a memory of the burnt nest and the whirlwind that will give them hope of finding their flock. These birds never come back. Their first stop is a place where they can find a glimmer of hope. Separated from their flock, alone, without names and features, in order to survive, they change their wings and build their nests in an unknown, foreign space. Will is the only support they have. Built from suffering and fear, their nests are so strong that they can resist even the strongest winds. Some of them have been preserved so long that we can find them after many centuries. Confused scientists accidentally discover them in unexpected places. These strange birds and their more strange nests often change the flows of history and contradict many theories. The origin and movement of some whirlwinds is associated with their habitats, in which some tired wings occasionally land in order to gather power to fly again. Except them, there is also a rare species of birds that choose freedom instead of cage and whirlwind instead of offered security. They are different from all other birds on their feathers, which are bright and on wings that are wind-covered. We can see their uniqueness and beauty only if we rise to their heights. Places where they often stay are only stories and legends. These birds are elusive. They fly because they want to, and because they know where they’re flying to; they know all the whirlwinds, the old and the new ones, the slight and the strong, and they wait patiently for the day when they will fly into the new beginning and rush to fulfill their dreams on the wings of the whirlwind. They know their way back, the question is whether they want to return. Their nests often remain empty forever, and for a long time they resist the tooth of time. We observe them with yearning, but also with a smile because we know that their inhabitants somewhere in the distant world find their way and happiness. Some birds just need to let them fly. Only then, they show how far their wishes and possibilities reach.
On the wings of the whirlwind, author Suzana Stojanović, February 17, 2007