Like a lot of writers I keep notebooks (yes more than one ) that I write random things in. Thoughts, scraps of stories, quotes that like, and other things. Sometimes I like to see how many words I can rhyme.
My point (there is one) is that I keep notebooks that are filled with the beginnings of the creative process. This poem came from one of those scraps.
After I read the four little lines thatI had written months ago, I rewrote it and expanded on it . And then I did it again. Eventually what came out was this poem.
A CAGED BIRD
A caged bird only knows
The limits that are imposed.
It knows nothing of the limitless outside.
To everyone outside,
It seems safe and secure.
But the bird knows there’s more.
Pushing it’s beak against the iron bars,
Trying to break through.
Waiting to unleash it’s potential.
The bird waits and waits
With patience that can only come from nature.
Patience, faith, and trust.
It knows in it’s heart that one day it will be free
And then it will spread it’s wings.
So it prepares for that day.
Always prepared, always hoping.
Prepared for today.
Prepared for every moment.
For that is the only moment we all have.