There are no birds in China

Crow was restless, bored by the monotony of his life in the beautiful Forest.

Give me time to think, asked Crow.

Oh, okay, I will dear crow, since time is all I have, said God.

How strange the dark one was. Slick, clumsy, without natural grace. A fierceness of heart, but not the iced brain to command. Roots in ashes, his ancient heart and modern mind contested for space.

The depth of your knowledge is the degree of being in the object of your thought; the quality of understanding is the quality of your attachments. Only touch the earth briefly, dear crow, find its rhythms, learn strategies of survival, remember the invisible paths by heart. Do not trust the word of Man. No good can come of it.

Crow glided downwards,God's light on his back. He saw many strange things and his child-like heart was frightened: black men in chains, the mullah and a goat, the grotesque, enlarged forehead of Chairman Mao, many, many birds falling from the sky.

Chu Si Hai

Congress, May 18, 1958.
The whole people, including five-year old children, must be mobilized to eliminate the four pests.

"It was many years before we knew that sparrows are good birds" said a man.

Then, Chairman Mao just said suanle ("forget it"). In those days, one man's word counted for everything.

Crow's wings became heavier when he saw all this, like the rain-soaked trees in the forest. A knot grew in his heart, as mysterious as the falling evening shadows across the plains. He saw blood spill on the ground, congeal and disappear. His eye took everything in.

Crow flew back, back into the storm, like an angel with a resolute heart. With his keen perception (which was really just the kindness of his heart) he picked out a small girl standing in a field, talking to God.Crow rested gently on her shoulder.

Ah, I see we have a mutual friend. But the little girl was too sad to notice, too tired and distraught to laugh. It was so cold that the stars had frozen, forgotten how to move and the darkness was bitter, twisted, horrendous, like nothing Crow could ever imagine. A land without light, full of sorrow. Grey ashes drifted upward, silently.

What type of place is this, Crow thought to himself.

Will you hurt me as well? , Crow asked the little girl.

No, don't be silly, dear crow. And she laughed, brought her hand to her mouth to hide her smile, as Crow tilted his head softly to hers as if to share his thoughts with her.

Will I ever see them again, she asked. Crow, who now had time to think, replied: of course you will! I will help you find them.

But beloved crow just talked,and talked,and talked.The little girl thought everything he said was really interesting, full of old-world charm and wonder but after a while, despite herself, she suddenly became very tired and went off to sleep.

Sorry crow, nothing personal, but I'm feeling awfully tired, she said.

Oh, that's okay. Sleep, little princess. I'm used to people dozing off whilst I expound my theorems. Don't tell God, but I sometimes doze off when he lectures me!

And the girl smiled. This time she was too drowsy to put her hand to her mouth. She dreamt she was a bird in an emerald-green forest,a bird in an old tree near a window and that the bird was dreaming of a blue star. In the dream within a dream she flew-as straight as the crow flies, flew along the invisible paths, to the blue star where she saw her loved ones again, talked with them as if they were as close to her as she was to Crow in the real world.

They held her hand, hugged her and stroked her hair and brought her cinnamon rolls and chocolate eclairs (made with fresh cream).

And under that wondrous blue light all souls were one and no-one was lost.