Lori was a parrot on the shores of an azure blue
Her plumage shone like emeralds, her brethren dazzled too
Lori parroted the Heralds news, for that was the parrot way
Hear and repeat, hear and repeat what the Herald birds had to say

One day the Heralds squawked a warning and gossip turned to dread:
Upon the shore are birds galore and their plumage is bright red!
They’re not like us, they’re not like us! the Heralds screeched in fright
For we are green and they are red and red is just not right

The worry spread like wildfire on the shores of the southern sea
They’re not like us, they’re not like us, they’re red, how can that be?
They’ll eat up all our sustenance, they’ll poison all our trees
There isn’t room for all of us, they’ll spread some new disease

Lori listened to the rumours, felt the anger and the fear
But found she couldn’t parrot onwards all the panic she could hear
She wondered why such monsters would come to their far shore
just to harm them and malign them.  There must be something more?

And so…Lori did something no parrot had ever done before
By failing to repeat, she broke the parrot law

Lori went to see with her own eyes what the heralds said they saw…

She came across the reds huddled tight upon the beach
Their faces drawn and haggard, a haunted look on each
Singed wingtips from some far-off flame kept them grounded on the sand
She heard them weep in disbelief at the loss of their homeland 

What happened to your home?  Lori asked with great concern
And they told her of its fall, how they had watched it burn
How families had been shattered, how they were forced to flee
How the only option left was to cross the open sea

Lori listened with an open heart, felt their waves of pain
Heard how their lands were different, yet also quite the same
Heard the parrotness of each bird in every word they said:
They’re just like us, she thought, but we are green, and they are red

Lori flew back to her brethren and repeated what she’d seen 
Parroting to all who’d hear that these reds were just like greens
She guided many to bear witness to the reds on the southern shore:
They’re just like us, they could be us, why didn’t we see this before?

When the greens saw the truth of the reds for themselves, the tide began to turn
The Heralds began to change their tune when they saw what the greens had learned
Fear gave way to compassion as they welcomed the reds to their fold
The reds shared their customs and knowledge, hearts filled up with liquid gold

When their homelands had stopped burning and their wingtips finally healed
The reds returned to their jungle, though some chose to stay in this new world revealed
And Lori? She chose to cross the sea and learn more of their far off land
A bond was forever forged between the reds and greens of jungle and sand

This one didn’t come easy, and I’m not entirely happy with it, but I’m taking my own advice from my last post and not being so precious about things. As Liz Gilbert’s Mum says, ‘done is better than good.’