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.