I feel...like a bird. Not a free one...not a caged one, either. Perhaps one that is limited. But by it's own means. But for some reason, even if I want, I can't escape. I can soar, but only so far. I am not a migrating bird. My home is my home. I do not vacation in Brazil when times get hard. I don't run away. My family is my own. I can not let them, even if they can can also soar. I can't let them go. But often they don't feel the same way. Where do they go? Do THEY vacation in Brazil? I guess I'll never know. I cannot leave my home, my shrine, my sanctuary. But perhaps, maybe one day, my spirit can. Then maybe I can see what all the fuss is about. For now, this bird is the same. Maybe my spirit can wander when I never could. One day. One day.
Like A Bird
December 7, 2008