Of Chains and of Wings

Black feathers quiver in damp air

The crocked branches of the slikened dark tree reach up to the sky

A deserted valley stretches out all the way to the horizon

Ready for takeoff, ready for the flight.

The wings

They daren’t fly

The wind

Just let it stream past

Bony feet clutch the dead branch underneath them

Sharp claws now bland

Once strong muscles

Now weakened.

Years of captivity soil the spirit

Break the spirit

Take the spirit


Cages come in all sizes and shapes

Some can be seen glistening in the sunlight

Others, invisible to the eye

All the same.

Hold on to conformity

Keep the form

Stay in line


A breeze flows in

Reminder of The Self

Of rights inherent to All Things

Honour – of rocks and grass and animals and all forms of life.

Chains cannot take the right to live

Imprison the mind

Tie down the heart

And spirit.

Giving up

Is Not an option.

Giving in

Is Not debatable.

Life will not get better

If you don’t give it the chance.

It is not the chains that tie you to that dead tree.

Take back what never was

Theirs to take.

Only yours to give.

But why would you?

Spread the weakened bones

Stretch the wings and – Fly.

Feel the breeze stroke through blackened feathers

Stand tall, look up

Straight in the eye of your fear

And smile.

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