...allegorical poem.

*~*~::..+..::~*~*


Little bird with legs tied with string
You may fly as you like, strung up in a tree
You hang and you swing
You beat hard your fragile wings
Feathers fluttering, air breathing
With the force of your whirlwind desperation
You may swing from a hand
Flying with your head to the ground
Or craning up to the sky
That far expanse of escape
But when jostled, hit, or swung
Again to the ground you look, and you see
There might also be escape down there
When finally you are let go, your wings take you a little ways
And you find the ground
Forced there as legs tied with string and weakness hold you down
On your side, little bird, what have you to see?
The dirt, the grass, the twigs and insects
And then your thrashing feet and floundering, the flopping wings
Denied all grace, the beauty they should naturally have
Your talons, ripping into your own face and chest, feathers, torn
You lie still and pant
And then you beat and struggle
You twist and writhe
Little bird, your feet tied with string
You roll up to those feet and you hop
And you stumble
Down
You fall down, little bird
With only yourself, only you may help yourself up
But you are helpless
You battle all forces of confusion and fear
You are a valiant warrior
You reach your feet to topple the tower of your anxiety
My little bird
You hop and flutter
And down you come
To the ground again.

To the sky you rise, the string taut
Tight
You swing and flutter, the wings beat
Feathers ruffled and loose
A beak snapping at the string
Snapping at the thin legs
Your little bird legs
You bite and swing and flutter
And the string becomes tighter
Tighter
So much tighter
They won't let you free, those who tie you down
Those who dictate what you may or may not do
Those who tell you, you cannot fly
You cannot hop
You cannot be free to live
You cannot have your life
It is not yours
You are not your own, little bird
The string ties you to another
And to another world much larger than you, little bird
Battered by your struggle
A heart worn thin by exhaustion, by your fear, by your anguished desires
Little bird, they free you of the string
You, to your feet, you stand and look
As the iron bars shut you in
This cage amongst the many faces
The many eyes observing
The serving hands
Restricting
You may not find your own seeds, your own fruits
You cannot discover your own wants or seek what you find to be missing
Their bars hold you in, little bird
They praise the mournful song you bleed
A voice, a cry of anguish
My little bird
This world is large and it desires to bind those who might wander
Those who might soar, who might scavenge and explore
That string that had tied your little bird feet, that had made you stumble
It is wrapped around you
Layer after layer, little bird
More string than bird, you are
No longer seen
No longer seeing
Blind, bound
You sing monotonous notes
Muffled by the layers that obscure you
You peck at the seeds in the dish
And dip your beak into the water
All that they give you
And you waste away, little bird, never having tested your wings
For the world never gave you the chance to fly.