The outfit I was applying for operated a plant a stone's throw from the Missouri river. The semi-rural environment, but more specifically, the grace and beauty (I'm really into raptors) of the birds put me at ease and made me wonder if they were a sign from above. I was asked to come back the next day for my first interview.
The next day as I drove along Front street in the sunshine I noticed how green the head of a mallard drake was as he paddled a small waterway with his lady. Was this another sign? This was my second trip to the plant. I felt it went well and was asked to come back for a final interview the next day.
On my final trip to the river, two pure white pigeons flew in front of my truck. Another sign from above? Three trips - three mating pairs. Come on; these had to be signs from above. And white pigeons sound a little Noah's Ark-esque. I felt confident that the ship of financial salvation was just around the river's bend.
I didn't get the job. The above statements are 100% true. The following is conjecture.
The birds were signs, but only now do I understand the truth of their prophetic symbolism.
The hawks were symbolic, as they circled together for food, of my wife and me since I am unemployed and we don't know how we will pay for our next meal. They might as well of been death buzzards on the Sarengetti.
The green head of the mallard was symbolic of the green envy I hold so dearly towards those who are employed right now.
And the pigeons, there were two of them ya' know. They represented the fact that the hiring bosses must have thought that I was twice the pigeon as anyone else who came to apply.
Oh yea, and since my son was born on the first of February and I arrived at the river on 28th of February, I believed that my son and the job would be bookends for the month. Just shows to go you. Well, at least I got a poem from the river.
When I looked out on the river,
I saw a creature floating by.
He had a message to deliver,
from the earth, the stars, the sky.
He pulled ashore and walked up to me,
he made a sign there in the sand.
He raised his hand and thereby slew me,
and now in death I understand.
And now in death I float the river,
passing empty people by.
I'm that breeze that makes them shiver,
though they couldn't tell you why.
Though I try to spread the message,
it always falls upon deaf ears.
Beneath this superficial visage,
lies the torrent of my tears.
So in life I walked as dead,
yet in death I'm made alive.
The creature's words ring in my head,
too other worldly to contrive.
You take care when at the river,
when there's no one else aroun',
or like an arrow through your liver,
I'll raise my hand and strike you down.
M. G. Sparks