The Caged Sparrow!

It beats its wings against the bars.

Soft wings.

Small body.

Endless sky in its eyes.

***

The cage hums with stillness.

Iron.

Cold.

Unmoving.

***

The sparrow remembers wind.

The smell of rain.

The whisper of clouds.

The taste of distance.

***

Now, there is only echo.

The sound of breath.

The rattle of metal.

A dream clipped short.

***

It sings anyway.

A fragile song.

A trembling note.

A cry no one answers.

***

People pass by.

They call it pretty.

They call it safe.

They never hear the silence.

***

The sparrow knows better.

Safety can feel like sorrow.

Walls can shine like gold

and still be prisons.

***

It hops closer to the light.

Tiny feet on rough steel.

Eyes wide with hunger.

Not for food —

for sky.

***

Every beat of its wings

is a prayer for escape.

Every feather holds a story

of what it once was.

***

Freedom is not a place.

It is a heartbeat.

It is air moving through open space.

It is flight without fear.

***

The sparrow closes its eyes.

It dreams of trees.

Of morning wind.

Of the sun that never fades.

***

And though the cage stays shut,

its spirit flies.

Beyond metal.

Beyond sorrow.

Beyond sight.

***

The caged sparrow never stops singing.

Because some hearts

are born with wings

too wild to break. 🕊️

***

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