Ode to Angelou’s Bird

The caged bird sings

Denied an existence beyond the bars

Untouched by the sky with its dormant wings

Inflicted with invisible permanent scars

Music is its only strength.


Notes of cadence and pure delicacy

Weave through a network of knotted trees

Flowers dance to the enchanted melody

Echoing past clouds aided by the breeze

It sings like no other.


But it is not a sweet song of sweet nothings

To lightly gloss over impressionable ears

To charm the mind into pleasant numbing

To relax the body and suspend the tears

It does not sing to please.


A song of purpose and urgency combined

To penetrate the ear’s ignorant coating

To engage awareness of the polluted mind

To implore the body for pro-action without doting

It sings to be heard.


A choric movement soaked in brilliance

With might and potency

Fervour and resilience

Valour and intensity

With its soul it makes unrelenting reverberations.


The caged bird sings and sings

To crush the chains of its cage

And birth a new age

To finally be a bird that sings.



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