I often wonder why the caged bird sings…unable to fly or spread his wings, his song is unyielding and remains unchanged despite those bars and the fate they’ve arranged for the beautiful creature that will sit till he dies, never knowing the freedom of the bird who flies. So why does this creature hum just the same? And what would happen if the free bird came, and explained what life was like away from that cage…would the bird turn bitter or swell up with rage? Yet he knows nothing of the ones like him that soar through the sky while proclaiming their hymn. To the bird in the cage the world is that room never seeing his confinement in the cage as a tomb. The caged bird led me to ponder on this…maybe our ignorance really is bliss. In our unawareness we sing and the melody is sweet and if you must blind me for this then bring on your deceit…I’d rather not know if I’m trapped up alone because it wouldn’t be bad if it’s all I had known. I won’t receive an answer to the question I raise, because the animal can’t talk he merely whistles his praise…but I believe if that bird could tell us one thing, he’d say freedom is simply being able to sing.
by Sarah ButlerArgo