The Girl & The Bird

Sun, 05/20/2018 - 10:41 -- fyates

 

The girl:

 

Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird, fly.

Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird, fly!

Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird, why?

 

Do you stay here?

 

You have lived your whole life in a cage

You have left when I have allowed

You have eaten from my hand when I have decided to feed you

But now you are a free bird, pretty bird

Free to fly and use those wings, once broken and now mended, and lean them against the soft caresses of the wind

And yet here you stay perched on my window sill

Still

 

Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird, fly!

Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird, FLY!

Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird, WHY?

Do you stay here?

 

Don’t you know what you are missing? Have you not seen it yet?

 

Far from here are vast summer landscapes, stretching their arms across the horizon...

Far from here are great blue oceans who plant sweet kisses on the sky at sunset as she blushes amorously...

 

Wouldn’t you like to see them?

 

My pretty bird, my pretty bird, my pretty bird...

Have you grown used to captivity?

Have you become accustomed to wishes less grand than you are capable?

 

Because you should have greater dreams than this Pretty Bird!

 

Do I sit here and dream for you?

 

Does your small bird brain not allow you to dream grand dreams?

 

 

The bird:

 

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, Hi.

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, Hi!

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, why?

 

Do you sit there?

 

You have lived countless lifetimes in that chair

You have left only to watch me glide

You have eaten only when I remind you of meal time

And now you point through the window and say, “Free yourself, Pretty bird!”

But I have always been free

Why aren’t you?

 

When we met you were broken, but now you are better

Not mended but less torn apart

I have loved you and fed you and kept you alive, so that you could be free to leave me

To make your way toward cities and culture and people and to explore 

And yet you still sit in that chair

There

 

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, leave.

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, LEAVE!

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, Please.

 

Do not stay here!

 

Don’t you know what you are missing?

Have you not felt it yet?

 

Near here, is the love that flows through every flower, every tree, and every animal The same love that will happily find you if you reach your hand out to it

Near here, are crowds of fumbling people, lovers, and dreamers, all just as lost as you, and waiting anxiously to offer comfort if you dare ask

 

I have seen them. Wouldn’t you like to?

To reach beyond to your full potential? To outstretch what you view as your meager capabilities?

 

My pretty girl, my pretty girl, my pretty pretty girl... 

 

Have you grown used to captivity?

 

Must I perch here and dream things for you?

 

Has your useless human brain stopped you from seeing clearly?

This poem is about: 
Me

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