Be pure. Be Icarus and Dionysus both. Look into the face of others and ask – with your wings and with your eyes – for their pain. And when they offer up their suffering, their sorrow and grief, heartache and sadness, take it all into your mouth, your beak, and hold tight but careful like a stork carrying a baby. Bundle it all together and carry it away, up toward the sun, continuing toward the heat with a pureness of heart. Let it overtake you, let the sun burn the gift you’ve brought. Let it burn you as well, if it must. Sacrifice.