I know why the caged bird sings.

Wellllll ….. as things would have it…. I do not know why the caged bird sings.  Not for sure.

The line from this poem, by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, has been present in my mind all day.  Prominently on my mind.  The line comes in the third stanza of the poem “Sympathy”

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,
When he beats his bars and would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings –
I know why the caged bird sings.

So much to think about there, really.  And believe me, I have been thinking long and hard on this.

I am not sure all caged birds sing.  Do they?  If not, why do some sing and others do not?

And those that are singing….. are they really praying from the core of their heart to be free?

Yes.  I know this is a metaphoric reference.  This poem.  About us.  People.  People who have lost their freedoms.

From time to time, I think we all lose our freedoms.  Perhaps we lose our independence or our exemption, or our immunity to something, somewhere.  There are occasions where we have to use restraint and we wish we didn’t have to.  Filters.  Restrictions.

Some of us have more cages than others.  Or cages with stronger bars.

Yet.  Yet.  Some people manage to sing no matter what.  They manage to shine.  They figure out a way to spread their wings, and fly a lap or two inside the cage.  It is not that they are resigned to their situation, I don’t think.  I think they sing because they are in the moment.  And singing seems like the right thing to do.  It beats stagnation, misery, and despondency.

If a bird can manage such things.

“The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage.” – Thucydides