Work Text:
Magpie
The magpie flits from land to land
picking up treasures wherever she can:
a movie scene here;
a song lyric there;
a book reread over and over again.
A collected menagerie
of trinkets and charms;
of heart-pumping ideas;
of mind-ticking thoughts.
The magpie gathers
and stores them away
then goes out in search
of more ways to play:
books and movies and tv shows;
songs and speeches; plays and poems.
She travels through life
flying by with no plan,
just collects what she’s given
and saves all that she can.
She then takes what she loves
to create something new
and when the time’s right,
the magpie debuts.
The magpie chitters
and chatters
and cheeps,
telling us all
for no secrets she keeps.
We all know which treasure
has sparked inspiration
and gave us the gift
of this brand-new creation.
Now…
Some claim the magpie
a scoundrel;
a thief.
“Stealing from others doesn’t make one unique.”
But isn’t how we’re inspired
a bit of uncontrolled fate?
Are we not all inspired
by what others create?
The magpie knows
that wherever she goes
the magic she’s found
becomes part of our own:
a director’s entire film catalog;
a musical artist’s career repertoire;
a painter’s paintings;
a playwright’s shows;
dancers and dreamers performing their prose.
The magpie’s favourites
become our favourites, too
and we honour those stories
by making something new.
We create
and then we wait
in hopes that someone will come…
A new magpie flits in; she finds what we’ve done.
She, too, is enamoured
by the shiny new creation
and adds our treasure
to her stash of inspirations.
She then uses her findings
to create what comes next:
more trinkets and charms
for us to collect.
By magpieing we find
where true potential lies
for the work of others
is what opens our eyes.
So, can it really be stealing
if the reason we create
is to honour and pay tribute
to the magpies?
To the greats?
For what greater honour is there
than for someone to learn all of ourself
and fall in love so deeply
they need a piece of us
for themself?