Maya Angelou writes that the caged bird sings for it, and our own USA allows it to ring. I, however, think it is something we will never have. Our need to be caged is far greater than our love of freedom. We are caged in jobs, homes, relationships, family; and by the simple fact that we have no feathers or fur, and we need to eat. We are foremostly caged by love. The single bond that is both elastic and solid steel. It sends us soaring to great heights and spinning out of control to the lowest depths. We might try to escape bravely or stealthy, but in the end it "will gettcha gettcha gettcha."
Gadding About
Footsteps echo force down the hall. Assumed
Gentleness irate, presumes its time to rear Ugly
Heads in childish tests the bonds of love.
We run naked and have no names.
The Elves pinch us until nothing remains.
We hide in the Toadstools under the trees.
Lichen formed mice tickle our knees and
dissolve in the laughter of the Elves as they tease.
They tease and they vex, they jest and they laugh
atop Sponge Pillows, at Moss tables, mischievous
spats. They sip Dewdrops, and Teardrops jabbering
a lot as eerie music surrounding fades in and out.
Circling this concert Tangled Fungus and Mold
drawing from heat transform and unfold
Fear, Sniveling Tears, Who done it?
You did it! He told!
In Algae Robes invading, winding below
and above not releasing or holding....
the illusive bonds of love.
May, 2003
