Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Leading The Bear Home

This gilt cage
swings in a breeze created
by a harsh voice,
feet curled
like old leaves
around the wooden perch.

I sing for supper, dance
for lunch, weep when breakfast
does not come.

I have seen my name
in lights brighter than stars,
discovered a cage needs no bars -
guilt stronger than finest steel.

I befriended the dancing bear,
licked raw patches that once had fur,
fed him rats cut
into the shapes of salmon, dreamed
with him of rocks and water and leaps
into freedom.

It was not until I let go
of faith that the door
finally opened - wings not from angels
but through acceptance; feathers
of words and cadence.

I was once a tree,
once turned only towards the sun,
now I move about the land
leading the bear back home.

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