The tree on the shore

by Kat Beyer

A prince put an apple on the orchard wall by the river. He told the apple, “Wait here until I get back.”

He didn’t come back. A bird ate the apple and dropped a seed on the riverbank, where it did what seeds do best.

The third king of the Two Lands camped under the apple tree, on his way to a campaign in the East.

The Emperor of All Between the Rivers rode under the apple tree. He took one heavy, yellow apple in his heavy, ringed hand, and kept riding.

The twelfth Queen of the Three Oceans hung a target from the apple tree. The Queen hit the target, but an assassin had better aim.

A boat came down the river. A young woman stepped out of it and came to the dying tree.

She bowed to it.

“Thank you for waiting,” she said. She picked the last apple and ate it, swallowing one seed. She waited until she was sure. Then she said, “When you are born, we will come back here and plant a tree.”

Ibis Rises

by Daniel Braum

After a lunch of chicken tikka masala and palek paneer washed down with the most fragrant rose lassies from that little red place on Bank Street, Maia and Jocelyn were walking to the bus stop heading back to their dorm. Jocelyn, having grown up in Brissy, paid the sticky heat and everything else no mind. Maia was quite happy not to be in the London winter and was taking in the Jacarandas and cute houses on stilts when she spotted an elegant white bird. It rummaged through the trash with its long, hooked, black beak, dwarfing the pigeons poking around alongside it.

“Wow, what’s that?” Maia asked.

“You mean the Ibis, love?” Jocelyn said.

The word Ibis conjured images of ancient Egypt into Maia’s head.

“I’ve never seen one before,” she said.

“We have birds from all over.”

“Ha. This is the closest I’ve been to Egypt.”

Powered by Maia’s focus and belief the Ibis’s attention shifted from picking apart the rubbish bags.

Where am I? Where are the pharaohs, it thought. These buildings are not the glorious works of Thoth. This river is not the Nile.

Filled with god-consciousness, the Ibis lifted its head, sensing how the energy of world had changed since it last manifested and letting knowledge flow into it.

So many new mysteries to learn. Such great wonders to uncover. To protect.

The Ibis noticed Maia and Jocelyn watching. It gave a little squawk and thought,
All this time and their kind is still just stuck in the muck.

Then it craned its head higher.

I sense so many seekers, so many yearning to worshippers, just waiting for me to rise and lead them. I shall start by-

Maia looked away, her attention caught by a big Jacaranda near the bridge over the Brisbane River.

“Can I take your picture, Joce? Its so lovely,” Maia said.

“Yeah, they’re in full bloom this time of year, doll.”

With the power of her focus and belief gone, the god-aspect faded from the Ibis. The bird went back to picking garbage as if nothing had happened, while Maia snapped a picture of Jocelyn under the purple Jacaranda.

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