The Birds Grew Wings

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birds

There was no denying–that the merciless cage only,

Prevented the Birds from soaring up high

Following their rush, up in the sky-which they love.

There was no denying. There never is.

There was no shame–when the cruel master,

Had taken the wings…taken them away

There was no shame.

There was no pain, when the Birds would sing

Not in melancholy, but in vain

Not in forgetfulness but in ignorance

Of the bliss in flight.

There was no pain. There always is.

There was no wonder–that what would happen

If the Birds grew back their wings

Would there be rebellion?

Would there be flight?

Would there be a reason?

Would they remember?

There was no guilt….

The day of the storm–when the wind blew down the cage

When the drapes kept swaying

And the bizarre light kept flashing

When the Birds lay forgotten

There was an escape.

A flutter, a hop, a swing and a flitter

And a swoosh….

The Birds Grew Wings

There was no ego..in their flight.

There was no pride.

There was no remorse. There always is.

* * *

The Birds soon discovered–their wings,

Had always been with them.

They had just been forgetful,

Of wings and flight and the sky

They blamed it on the Man.

There was so much anger. There always is.

* * *

The Birds flew in a sequence.

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