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the caged bird leaps…
and simultaneously weeps for ones left behind.

tears are the petrol for each flap of the wings
the bird propels itself to a place and time
where the colour of its plumage wasn’t considered a crime.
and so the bird flies… flies with gusto and conviction
no gust or cross wind would dare inhibit such a flight.
what passionate precision! what emotional release!
no more sleepless nights in the belly of the beast…

yet while the free bird flies, it weeps for the ones it left behind.

the horizon is no longer a naive dream.
motivational speeches are no longer countered with thoughts so obscene.
as liberation and vindication course the pardoned fowl’s veins, it soars over the nearby stream and swoops down to rinse away the stains of incarceration.

even now as the free bird bathes, it prays for the ones it could not save.

away, away! the acquitted climbs to a loftier height
the apex is near, the end is in sight
our getaway fowl slaloms through the clouds
darting as if it were being actively pursued
gliding over the canopies and crowds
drinking in the intoxicating views
divine visual nectar soothing the searing heat
emitted from every feather

so this is what freedom is…
yet the plumaged one had no one to share it with
she said she knows why the caged bird sings
i replied i know why the free bird cries

photo by yours truly (edited w/ Brushstroke)

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