Bird in a Cage

A caged bird, still and slight,

Tending the hem of your lily-white.

Eating, sleeping, imprisoned—by routine,

Chains forging your daylight clarity.

You gaze at one who soars above the sea—

A dandelion born from a blue note,

Drifting beyond gravity’s leash,

Into a void — blue ocean, blue sky, and the blue beyond blue.

But fate is a blade of eyes,

A sword that pierces wings upon the peak of dusk.

Its blood flares like sparks across the twilight,

Then sinks into a sea of snowy clouds.

Oh, caged bird, you are the convict, the prisoner.

It is you who tend the one that flies.

That sky you dreamed of as vast and wide—

Was just your soul, still trapped inside.