Vibrant Bird

In a village far to the North so dear,
Lived a hunter with heart wrapped in fear.
Through winters long, with biting chill,
Snowstorms danced, lending the air a thrill.

This year, the cold held its icy breath,
And the hunter's young son was gripped by death.
He faded away, pale as the moon,
No healer's touch could save him too soon.

Sadness lingered in the hearth's dim glow,
The hunter knelt close, as soft winds did blow.
'What is it you wish for, my lad?' - the wind asked,
At a moment of silence, a spell long unmasked.

With a whisper so gentle, the child did reply,
'I want to see sunlight, that could brighten the sky.'
But where could it shine in a land of despair?
The hunter, determined, felt love in the air.

He stoked the warm embers, yet fire couldn't glow,
And though it was bright, it was not the sun's show.
His eyes found a splinter that danced with the flame,
In that moment of clarity, ideas burst forth like a name.

He chipped and he carved through the long winter's night,
Fashioned a vibrant bird in a spirit of light.
He adorned it with patterns, all intricate and fine,
Then hung it above where his sweet boy pined.

As the warmth from the hearth began to swirl,
The vibrant bird fluttered and began to twirl.
Awakened, the lad broke into a grin,
'Look, father! The sun has come shining in!'

From that day forth, he grew strong and whole,
The wood bird became a symbol that touched the soul.
A guardian spirit, they named it with cheer,
A bringer of joy, protecting all near.

So in that far village, amidst snow and frost,
A hunter's pure love proved never a loss.
A vibrant bird's magic, a bond forged in light,
In the heart of the darkness, they found hope's delight.