In my sleep I heard songs of Europe. Deciding to return home, a bird had left the warmth of Africa to return to the land of her birth, to the most beautiful land in the world.
On her long and perilous voyage she had seen the blue sparkling waters of the Mediterranean, sea of Rome and Greece where it all started. It was on those islands, rising from the waters of History and Time, where people who had fallen in love with Knowledge and Wisdom, gave birth to Democracy.
The bird had seen the Iberian Peninsula and its sea-faring nations. Knowing no fear before the Unknown, they set sail to distant lands, finding new routes and unimaginable riches. Soldiers and traders: finders of new worlds.
The bird had crossed Les Pyrénées, she had flewn across France and over Poitiers where Charles Martel and his French knights, les chevaliers, said c’est assez, it’s enough! She saw Paris, the most beautiful city in the world, where Democracy took over Autocracy and where the peopleclaimed their right to rule. It was there that Subjects became Citizens, where les Sujets becameles Citoyens.
She had seen the British Isles, and its people so determined, so brave, loving freedom beyond all other things in this world; it is they who stood strong when others had fallen. No enemy, no terror in this world that could shatter the unbreakable will of the British.
She also saw the beaches of Normandy. She saw the endless ranks of white crosses: a testament to the moment when Freedom seemed all but lost, and Liberty was about to succumb to Tyranny, our American brethren answered the call. In our darkest hour they did not leave us behind. Our sisters, our brothers, our allies.
Many other people the bird had seen on her way to this Northern End of the World, the land of the Finns who, having tasted Freedom, could not let her go. Faced with an overwhelming foe and impossible odds, the last of Europe’s children stood against Oppression, and Freedom was given a permanent home in this cold and remote corner of Europe.
When I woke up I heard no more singing. The bird had gone, and there I was, lying on my bed, looking out the window, left alone wondering what would happen if we believed in these people; what would happen if we believed in Europe.