Looked in on the little bird
That my lady brought home today,
He was fluttering about in his new world
And I wished that I could take him away.
When I looked at that wired cage
I could not help but wonder about my own,
This world that surrounds me, what a rage!
This world that one must call home.
We looked at one another
Two prisoners seeing eye to eye,
Thought I felt the presence of a brother,
Thought that at any moment I might cry.
My consciousness connected with his
And I knew that his life must be sad,
He who hath wings, yet cannot fly...
How can life turn out so bad?
But what bothers me most indeed
Is that his cage is so much smaller than mine,
To cover every inch, only a second he needs,
While it would take me a few lifetimes.
So cruel, so unfair, an abuse
To be restricted from free flight,
His wings shall go lame from lack of use,
Somehow it just is not right.
I'm dedicating my life
To the hope of breaking free,
And who knows, when that time comes
I just might decide to take the bird with me.
It would be the very best of days
To be able to fly up and away,
Fugitives just running to the sun
In search of God, and the Better Way.
I dearly hope the time will come
When we both may reach that shining sun,
In the meantime we can only look between the bars,
And try to deal with what's been done.
Copyright © 1986 Hans Raffelt, All Rights Reserved.
