Prompt: Caged Bird, Titled: "No Bars Between"
She sits there. Hops across the small floor. Sometimes she sings.
People call her crazy. "Singing! Come on, you idiot! The door is open. Fly, fly!"
Her song may quiet at their words but still she stays, moving across her small reality inside the cold bars. She eats only what is given, never searching beyond that door.
Most observers leave irritated. Who wants to watch such a stupid bird?
But, one day, I look closer.
Up in the corner of the cage is a nest, an occupied nest. Three orbs snuggled, sleeping dreams.
But why didn't she leave, at least for an occasional worm?
And then I realized, not only can she not carry her nest, even leaving just for a quick bite, a juicy beetle, the danger wasn't in the leaving, but in the coming back.
What if the door closed, but only after she left?
It wasn't that she didn't want to breathe beyond the bars, it was only that she couldn't have anything stand between her and her eggs.
Where others see stupidity, I see bravery. I see love that clips its own wings. I see a mom standing, stoutly waiting for her eggs to hatch, waiting for her babies to fly.
I see a mom that will one day follow them out. One day they will all escape, parting the clouds with feathers straight and true. But now, she keeps her wings furled, her head up ... and, now and then ... she sings.
She knows that, one day, she will again taste the sky.
People call her crazy. "Singing! Come on, you idiot! The door is open. Fly, fly!"
Her song may quiet at their words but still she stays, moving across her small reality inside the cold bars. She eats only what is given, never searching beyond that door.
Most observers leave irritated. Who wants to watch such a stupid bird?
But, one day, I look closer.
Up in the corner of the cage is a nest, an occupied nest. Three orbs snuggled, sleeping dreams.
But why didn't she leave, at least for an occasional worm?
And then I realized, not only can she not carry her nest, even leaving just for a quick bite, a juicy beetle, the danger wasn't in the leaving, but in the coming back.
What if the door closed, but only after she left?
It wasn't that she didn't want to breathe beyond the bars, it was only that she couldn't have anything stand between her and her eggs.
Where others see stupidity, I see bravery. I see love that clips its own wings. I see a mom standing, stoutly waiting for her eggs to hatch, waiting for her babies to fly.
I see a mom that will one day follow them out. One day they will all escape, parting the clouds with feathers straight and true. But now, she keeps her wings furled, her head up ... and, now and then ... she sings.
She knows that, one day, she will again taste the sky.