The bird listens to the song – is calm and quiet, sometimes it even joins in.
It may sense a prayer – for it is gentle and still.
It sleeps even as the song progresses.
Caged bird – if only it was free, but to be free would be to be a pest, to be hunted, because it doesn’t belong here.
It kills all the natives.
Bird – are you a metaphor for all colonisers everywhere?
Caged, uncaged, let loose, like a kite whose string is cut when it’s up high enough to be free.
If only the bird could go back home. Find somewhere that welcomed it, beyond the shores of here.
Sometimes when the bird is free it pecks the eyes of the youngest – he cries out and so the bird is punished.
But when his master comes home – he who feeds it, advocates for it and reminds his mother she must feed it, and play music to it – the bird is attached to a shoulder where it belongs.
The bird loves them all though, even when he pecks the youngest. He hates toes though.
Toes mean treading on bird when he’s running around out of his cage. He lives for the forage, the chase of the bug – preferring grubs you throw and make look like living worms.
The bird belongs in this family – but are they a cage outside a cage? What is the bird was truly free and back in his homeland?
The question has no real answer because life is what it is and the bird was born in foreign lands and fell from his tree. Now he lives here – and rests in his cage.
To be continued.
Sometimes I like to write from the environment around me, like writing a storm when one is on, or basing a character upon somebody real. Today I wrote of our family pet bird and his relationship with our family and his environment. My next challenge is to incorporate this into a developing story – and the obvious place to go to after the bird is inside the head of one of his family – but there are less obvious things that could happen – like going to the head of his mother? So until my next blog post in this story I will be thinking and dreaming about what I could write next.
An uncaged bird – as freedom is cliche so I have made this that the uncaged bird is less free than the caged because of what waits out there for him. I would have liked to be more humourous but today there is a melancholy tone in my writing, it could just be my choice of metaphor.
(c) June Perkins