A bird in a corner. Four walls surrounding my freedom. The gilded cage. Trapped.
I hear a song. A lullaby for things gone.
I rest my head on my pillow and dream. A dream of you – my dream. A memory is shaking loose from my troubled long past. Dividing the sequences.
I left.
I’m gone. Through puzzles I fly. Unknown to you, unknown to all, my secret shall reveal. Too bad I, myself won’t get to see it.
It’s a chronicle. Of a bird. It’s a song that’s never going to get sung.
I stumble. I fall. I stay. Alone. I hear your breath and feel the smell of death. As it was that day. When they took you away. You were trying to escape. Only, your little body couldn’t stand the damage and it gave way to numbness and then, you were cold. You took the beating of the cage, trying to break it. Your little sparkly eyes that gazed ahead – to the light. To freedom.
The outer world. Beyond the cage.
We had a dream, you and I. To sing a song. In a tree somewhere. Gazing at the Sun. Feeling the warm breeze caressing our feathers. And just swingin’ to the jazz on a branch, we would be madly in love with laughing.
That’s all.
That was our little dream. Or maybe not so little after all.
And besides, you know, we wouldn’t have lasted the winter. We weren’t delusional. Just starving for freedom. And, you know, dear friend reading these lines, we just wanted a moment of freedom.
Just a taste.
Just a touch.
Just a smell.
Just a song.
Just a dream.
Just a cloud.
Just a tree.
Just some grass.
And the Sun – in our hearts.
And that, my friend, would have made it all worthwhile. Because, you know, – let me tell you if you don’t – that’s what life is all about. Oh, yes, my friend! That perfect moment, just one – of being, of breathing – LIFE! It doesn’t get much better than that.
This is the story. Of a bird and its little heart. Glorious sunshine all around. Someday, we will make it out. I’m just waiting for my next life to come.
Did you truly live today? Take a moment to think about it. That “smelling the roses” never gets old.
I hear a song. A lullaby for things gone.
I rest my head on my pillow and dream. A dream of you – my dream. A memory is shaking loose from my troubled long past. Dividing the sequences.
I left.
I’m gone. Through puzzles I fly. Unknown to you, unknown to all, my secret shall reveal. Too bad I, myself won’t get to see it.
It’s a chronicle. Of a bird. It’s a song that’s never going to get sung.
I stumble. I fall. I stay. Alone. I hear your breath and feel the smell of death. As it was that day. When they took you away. You were trying to escape. Only, your little body couldn’t stand the damage and it gave way to numbness and then, you were cold. You took the beating of the cage, trying to break it. Your little sparkly eyes that gazed ahead – to the light. To freedom.
The outer world. Beyond the cage.
We had a dream, you and I. To sing a song. In a tree somewhere. Gazing at the Sun. Feeling the warm breeze caressing our feathers. And just swingin’ to the jazz on a branch, we would be madly in love with laughing.
That’s all.
That was our little dream. Or maybe not so little after all.
And besides, you know, we wouldn’t have lasted the winter. We weren’t delusional. Just starving for freedom. And, you know, dear friend reading these lines, we just wanted a moment of freedom.
Just a taste.
Just a touch.
Just a smell.
Just a song.
Just a dream.
Just a cloud.
Just a tree.
Just some grass.
And the Sun – in our hearts.
And that, my friend, would have made it all worthwhile. Because, you know, – let me tell you if you don’t – that’s what life is all about. Oh, yes, my friend! That perfect moment, just one – of being, of breathing – LIFE! It doesn’t get much better than that.
This is the story. Of a bird and its little heart. Glorious sunshine all around. Someday, we will make it out. I’m just waiting for my next life to come.
Did you truly live today? Take a moment to think about it. That “smelling the roses” never gets old.
No comments:
Post a Comment