She walked in the same space for years.
Not by choice or desire but by circumstances.
A bird, as all birds, didn’t choose her cage.
She was put there for love, the strongest love.
Her captors, the kindest caretakers,
They didn’t know if lack of seeds in the wild
Was better or worse than the lack of freedom.
She was too young and didn’t have a choice.
And as she stares at the open door she wonders:
How difficult will it now be to fly?
There are different trees far and wide,
But her home was a cage for 21 years.
This is the prettiest and kindest bird I know,
In the same cage of the many birds that fled
Deserted and desolated places.
No one really chooses to leave such places,
Even if those birds decided to fly away into a cage.
Because hunger will kill you,
And the dreams will slowly die.
And as bad as a cage is, hope can be kept alive.
So she stands still in her cage, one last time,
Hoping that she can open her wings and fly.
B. Meza © 05/05/2015
For all the immigrants around the world struggling with their status and not belonging anywhere. I hope the cage opens for you all someday. This poem is especially for my older sister whom I love, respect, and admire.