Gur'mekh and his sisters Bath and Mer’bel were born to a beaming Kambra. She fondled them and looked deeply into each of them with her inner vision. Bath and Mer’bel continued to take their first meal at her warm side. But Gur’mekh stirred and looked at her with unseeing eyes. Even on his first day, there was no doubt about it--he had the gift. Gur’bruk looked at his son with wonder, then he nuzzled Kambra. “They were born as the sun rose. It is a good sign.”
“Are you happy, okhim?”
“Yes, okash.”
Gur’bruk climbed out of the den, up into the morning sun. As he looked east bathed in crimson light, the morning breeze swept his body, fondling his ears and crest. He threw his head back and cried out in his unbridled joy. “I’m a father!” he shouted in common speech. “I’m the luckiest person alive!”
“So you’re a father!” an ostrich cried, surrounded by a flock of a dozen small, squabbling chicks. “The novelty soon wears off.”
Lost in his reverie, Gur’bruk watched the enormous disk of the sun climb into the purple sky, gilding the acacias and turning the grass to flame. In an ecstasy of thanksgiving, he uttered his morning prayer:
“Lend your light to anoint my eyes, Great Mother (Roh’kash) of us all! Open my eyes and let me see the wonder of your works! There is the mountain, lofty and noble, capped with snowdrifts jasmine white. There is the restless meadow grass. There is the crash of mighty thunder, and the whisper of a heartbeat. Who shall place a value on these things? Who shall understand your heart, O Mighty Roh’kash? One like you whose heart is full of love, and whose feet walk the true path of righteousness.”
Never before and never again would that traditional aubade feel so much like whispering fresh love words right into the ear of God.
On a sadder note, Shimbekh was not allowed to be present at the birth for fear she might do something desperate. It was the one blemish on an otherwise perfect morning.