Le grand ouseau de la mort

Le grand ouseau de la mort/ Le grand ouseau d’lamour

There was a time, once before; when the death of a creature meant something very different to the meaning it has now. There was a time, once before; when the death of a creature meant that creature would embark upon the next stage of the greatest story every told – the search for their soul and all things between.
Now death, as we understand it, is something all together different. There used to be no need for things such as re-incarnation, there used to be no need for things such as funeral rites and there used to be no need for things such as heavens or hells or a realm of any sort which might take a creature and keep them. There were no ghosts and there was no fear of death.

And this was the key.

No creature was kept in death or, indeed, kept by death. For death, in a time once before, was known by a different name, as love. Now, it is true, that love means something entirely different, and it is true that it meant something completely different back then as it does now, the same thing in fact – But death, once before, was known as love for the simple reason that all creatures who existed knew no other word, no other turn of phrase or feeling akin to the motion which was the passing from one stage to the other, apart from love; all encompassing and wonderfully liberating love.

Now, what should really be understood is that death is a motion, much like love. Death is a process, which is all at once as mechanical as it is majickal, and all motions are the manifestation and transition of a type of energy. The love, which we now understand to be the benefactor of the word, is the energy between two or more things which have a consideration that the other is equally, or more so, important as themselves – this consideration is so strong that it has an effect on the whole being of a creature, making things all sparkly and squiggly and so on.

What should also be understood is that death, the figure of death, is no terrible spectre whose sole purpose is to steal the life away from those who would not have him. Death was once much like many of us in that he understood love in the old and truest sense of the word, he loved and was loved in return. He was once the agent of a very different purpose and whilst he has always been seen as mystical, he was very fondly thought of and known by a different name all together – The great bird of love.

Tales used to tell of the great bird of love, who knew all the secrets of each creatures’ heart and knew the murmurs of their soul.
Tales used to tell that he would know the moment of each creatures’ death and that at that moment he would understand the thing which they had come to love the most whilst they were alive.
Tales used to tell that the great bird of love would swoop down, right at the point of passing, and collect the spirit of the creature just as the life expired. He would then take that spirit and carry it away to a place where it would be surrounded by the feeing and memory of that which it loved most, whilst the soul of the creature passed onwards towards the next stage.

Now, it is important to note here that within each creature are three active parts, although the creature is most usually aware of only two – the personality and the spirit. The third is the soul and although it is really the soul who governs all action and is the primary cause of any manifestation, it is the personality and spirit of the creature which thinks it is steering the ship.

This tale will be the tale of the great bird of death, who used to be known as the great bird of love – who has the most secret of secret names and was once the companion of Hillundria, queen of the underworld.