dipping a wing into the sun

i know why the caged bird sings
~ maya angelou ~

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

why a dead bird?

for hope ~ in the shine of her eyes, the curl of her still gripping talons

for despair ~ folded in her cold body, pressed into the cold earth

for purpose ~ held tightly in her closed beak, cloaked in black for all to see.

this season’s not about giving … or getting … or consuming … or pity … or making up for a year’s worth of egocentric, complacent and inconsiderate existence. its about … finding the light. and remembering that it will not shine forever.

find your light. treasure it. share it. before it extinguishes itself.

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~ by frizzyscissorhands on December 19, 2007.

10 Responses to “dipping a wing into the sun”

  1. i love this. we both use dead bird imagery ….sag affinity. youre next on the CD list!

  2. i have this thing about death. like … i’m afraid people will die before i see them again. being far away from loved ones maybe does that to a psyche … also watching far too many people die.

    death actually fascinates me ~ i mean on a spiritual level ~ far more than does birth.

    she’s a strange girl, that roxanne …

    and, yes … i do have a fascination with dead bird imagery … sagg affinity is probably right.

    can’t wait to see my CD … thanx pup.

  3. I love the poem, but the thought after it is what’s truly great about this post.

    The light will not shine forever. We would all do well to remember that.

  4. eric ~ how r u? i have been a terrible blogmate … next week i think i may have more time to visit a few more blogs … inbetween fits of ‘stuff purging’ (in preparation for the big move).

    anyway … yes. that the light will not shine forever is a humbling, uncomfortable and even painful realization to come upon. we deny death in this culture; how unfortunate, i think.

  5. Your sentiments are far more beautiful than my own. Maybe I should adopt them.

    For me, this time of year represents the challenge of survival. Perhaps I’m a bit jaded.

  6. x-dell ~ i hear ya. i can hardly wait til its over … its tiresome and monotonous, all this Christmas hype.

  7. Mantissa, you do not cease to amaze me. It is that time of the year, well… to see a dead bird at the end of the year.

    I didn’t know what to think. The next day I went back to your post and realized that a perfectly happy cat would bring home some dead animal for the household. So it is the Cat that presents us with the offering.

    As an adult I was on Sylvester’s side and not Twitty Bird’s. Things are alright now… until next year!

    This post is a stunner.

  8. I feel the same way as X does about that, because I’ve thought about it a lot, but you quantified it perfectly.

    And take your time getting around. See you when I see you, right? But, I am doing post number one hundred soon. It’ll be good.

  9. It looks sad.
    I mean, there’s a dead bird on the page, and I ain’t sure I wanna read something sad.

    Tell ya what.
    I’ll read it (sad or not) and leave a sad lil “thing” here fer ya.

    Kind of want to tell everybody
    Goldfish bowl (wee fish)
    a baby lamb (ewe)
    a girl horse (mare)
    some herons (egrets)
    and a moose (not Bullwinkle, even though I’m a big fan.)
    So, repeat that two more times and end with an ear hopping along the ground and you have:

    Wee Fish Ewe A Mare Egrets Moose
    Wee Fish Ewe A Mare Egrets Moose
    Wee Fish Ewe A Mare Egrets Moose

    and a hoppy new ear!

  10. Dead bird in all honesty is how I feel like right now…In spite of the insanity of this season ( sorry I seem to be so..um’…just dark..) I have yet to feel its real meaning in my life..So far I have spent money here and there..I have been spent innumerable hours stuck in traffic..I have spent a night drunk with no recollection of what took place the hours after I plunged in bed…I have yet to wrap gifts..

    oh’ goash’ Red..I like crashing here in your bloggy’..It’s like walking inside an old friend’s home knowing you’re always welcome no matter how many years you’ve been away…knowing you can just plop down on her sofa and chug a bottle of beer…

    I miss you…You’re in my heart and I will always love you…

    Dramatic I suppose…but that’s my light that seems to have been flickered up after reading here…

    take care…and I hope this coming change for you..the trip and all..will be smooth and cool and just happy…

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