The Cage
(2) The Cage
The little bird was caught when he was still very young and unable to fly. He was sold to an old man.
As the little bird was growing, he learned he should be very grateful to his owner who protected him from the many dangers outside the cage. The old man kept the little bird safe since he was so unequipped to confront risks in the outside world.
However as time passed by, the little bird grew depressed. He felt sad whenever he saw other birds flying outside, and they told him about places far away from his cage, beautiful places abundant with flowers. He tried to practice flying in the cage but there was not enough space, and the old man worried about the bird injuring his wings!...
It was a warm day in September... life was awakening again after a long, harsh winter. The air itself was light and musical, and the fragrances from the distant forest wafted lazily on the breeze.
There was so much dancing and celebrating outside the cage! The little bird felt an enormous, irrepressible sense of longing growing in his heart.
"Please let me go outside? Let me fly like the other birds!..."
"I love you too much to let you kill yourself out there!...There are so many dangers, and you are so innocent! I am taking care of you. There is no need for you to worry!"
"I wish I could..." and the little bird dreamed secretly again...
He stealthily tried from different angles to open his delicate wings and jump from one side of the cage to the other, but a loud crash and the loss of a few feathers were the best results.
By December, the flowers were all in bloom. The little bird's body was covered in bruises... his wings, not matter how the old man tried to treat them, were badly damaged and weakened... The little bird was very distant, and the old man began to panic. Fearing to lose his little friend, the man sacrificed his claim over the little bird. One day he pretended he accidentally left the cage door open. He concealed himself and observed the bird's attempt at flying...
The little bird's heart was exuberant, as if a waterfall thundered within his tiny body, showering his joy n colourful vivacious rainbows! The door was open, and nobody was there to prevent his escape!
In no time the little bird was trembling on the ground... his wing broken. The beautiful sounds of the forest now were terrifying. Just one attempt, and he had failed! -"Maybe"-, he thought, -"the old man is right; maybe I am unable to survive, to be free out there!"-
The old man rushed to the little bird, snatched him up and held him in his hand with so much love that the bird couldn't resit indulging in it. The man treated the bird's wounds and fed him without any reproach. The waterfall in the little bird's heart was drying up and the colourful rainbows were now dark, gloomy shadows of pity and guilt...
The man was happy! It was winter, and the snow dressed the naked tress and the peaceful village all in white. The smell of hand-baked bread drifted from the chimneys. The little bird always had seeds on his plate and it was so cosy near the fireplace! He felt so lucky that he forgot about the locked door for a time.
But time goes on, and winter is only a breath of cold winds and snow, and as it empties its bag, spring begins to blow its breath of lilies and daisies in the valley, feeding the blue sky with swallows and dressing the bushes with golden finches. The longing within the little bird's heart awakens again. He wonders about the creeks and the mountains... about the forest and rivers... about the sky and the ocean...
The little bird asks the man to open the cage door again. As the man does so, the little bird can see in his eyes that the man is scared. This time the little bird could die! The bird knows that the man will always be there to rescue him if ever he fails... and he knows that this is the safe way to failure.
He begins to realise the man is selfish. The man never loved him. He had been using his power and taking advantage of the bird's weakness to avoid confronting his own fears of loneliness.
The little bird doesn't fly out of the cage. This time he walks... and walks... he climbs the tree... higher and higher... The man is deeply frightened, but he is too old to climb trees and stands devastated on the ground.
The little bird is meeting other birds. He is attempting short flights from one branch to another. He falls a few times, but he tries again persistently. He is becoming familiar with his wings, and his heart is again a waterfall gathering and building rainbows and he sees himself in the middle of that rainbow, he is flying...
It is midsummer. A strong aroma of tomatoes and berries is drifting from the village. The little bird is tireless; he is measuring the world with his wings open now, and every thing seems so different and meaningful.
He flies through the forest now and has crossed the creek of crystalline water. He is learning and mastering, he is sharing and he is trusting... but the smell of tomatoes and berries reminds him always of the man in the village.
There is a quiet breeze floating from the river... The leaves are falling golden on the ground making a carpet of tiny bells tinkling when the passing breeze squeezes them... It is autumn.
The man sits on his chair. In front of him the time is inventing dramas of unclimbed mountains and sunsets sunk on rivers of sand and fire... As he tries to hold on his unfinished dreams, the day unfolds its costume of discoloured fibres. Next to the man, with the door still open, the empty cage is waiting, and the man, who cries now, feels the relentless pain of this moment, surrendering in wet petals of tears...
The little bird realises now that the man has no wings, or may be the man's wings had been so badly impaired that they never had been used. After all, the bird had never fully discovered his wings until he enjoyed his first fly. The little bird's heart is suddenly filled with a strange unknown feeling, some sort of love that knows nothing about boundaries.
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I was told that the little bird and the man became very good friends. They dismantled the cage together and with the pieces made a beautiful garden windmill. They had found each other in the core of their dreams, and they now share an infinite sky.
Sometimes, when the wind blows on the little windmill, the sound travels throughout the valley and brings hundred of birds to the man's garden.
And sometimes at dawn, I have seen the little bird and the man's heart flying towards the creek...
I know without a doubt that they share a secret that lies deep in a cage that never existed.
Written in in winter, 2004
The little bird was caught when he was still very young and unable to fly. He was sold to an old man.
As the little bird was growing, he learned he should be very grateful to his owner who protected him from the many dangers outside the cage. The old man kept the little bird safe since he was so unequipped to confront risks in the outside world.
However as time passed by, the little bird grew depressed. He felt sad whenever he saw other birds flying outside, and they told him about places far away from his cage, beautiful places abundant with flowers. He tried to practice flying in the cage but there was not enough space, and the old man worried about the bird injuring his wings!...
It was a warm day in September... life was awakening again after a long, harsh winter. The air itself was light and musical, and the fragrances from the distant forest wafted lazily on the breeze.
There was so much dancing and celebrating outside the cage! The little bird felt an enormous, irrepressible sense of longing growing in his heart.
"Please let me go outside? Let me fly like the other birds!..."
"I love you too much to let you kill yourself out there!...There are so many dangers, and you are so innocent! I am taking care of you. There is no need for you to worry!"
"I wish I could..." and the little bird dreamed secretly again...
He stealthily tried from different angles to open his delicate wings and jump from one side of the cage to the other, but a loud crash and the loss of a few feathers were the best results.
By December, the flowers were all in bloom. The little bird's body was covered in bruises... his wings, not matter how the old man tried to treat them, were badly damaged and weakened... The little bird was very distant, and the old man began to panic. Fearing to lose his little friend, the man sacrificed his claim over the little bird. One day he pretended he accidentally left the cage door open. He concealed himself and observed the bird's attempt at flying...
The little bird's heart was exuberant, as if a waterfall thundered within his tiny body, showering his joy n colourful vivacious rainbows! The door was open, and nobody was there to prevent his escape!
In no time the little bird was trembling on the ground... his wing broken. The beautiful sounds of the forest now were terrifying. Just one attempt, and he had failed! -"Maybe"-, he thought, -"the old man is right; maybe I am unable to survive, to be free out there!"-
The old man rushed to the little bird, snatched him up and held him in his hand with so much love that the bird couldn't resit indulging in it. The man treated the bird's wounds and fed him without any reproach. The waterfall in the little bird's heart was drying up and the colourful rainbows were now dark, gloomy shadows of pity and guilt...
The man was happy! It was winter, and the snow dressed the naked tress and the peaceful village all in white. The smell of hand-baked bread drifted from the chimneys. The little bird always had seeds on his plate and it was so cosy near the fireplace! He felt so lucky that he forgot about the locked door for a time.
But time goes on, and winter is only a breath of cold winds and snow, and as it empties its bag, spring begins to blow its breath of lilies and daisies in the valley, feeding the blue sky with swallows and dressing the bushes with golden finches. The longing within the little bird's heart awakens again. He wonders about the creeks and the mountains... about the forest and rivers... about the sky and the ocean...
The little bird asks the man to open the cage door again. As the man does so, the little bird can see in his eyes that the man is scared. This time the little bird could die! The bird knows that the man will always be there to rescue him if ever he fails... and he knows that this is the safe way to failure.
He begins to realise the man is selfish. The man never loved him. He had been using his power and taking advantage of the bird's weakness to avoid confronting his own fears of loneliness.
The little bird doesn't fly out of the cage. This time he walks... and walks... he climbs the tree... higher and higher... The man is deeply frightened, but he is too old to climb trees and stands devastated on the ground.
The little bird is meeting other birds. He is attempting short flights from one branch to another. He falls a few times, but he tries again persistently. He is becoming familiar with his wings, and his heart is again a waterfall gathering and building rainbows and he sees himself in the middle of that rainbow, he is flying...
It is midsummer. A strong aroma of tomatoes and berries is drifting from the village. The little bird is tireless; he is measuring the world with his wings open now, and every thing seems so different and meaningful.
He flies through the forest now and has crossed the creek of crystalline water. He is learning and mastering, he is sharing and he is trusting... but the smell of tomatoes and berries reminds him always of the man in the village.
There is a quiet breeze floating from the river... The leaves are falling golden on the ground making a carpet of tiny bells tinkling when the passing breeze squeezes them... It is autumn.
The man sits on his chair. In front of him the time is inventing dramas of unclimbed mountains and sunsets sunk on rivers of sand and fire... As he tries to hold on his unfinished dreams, the day unfolds its costume of discoloured fibres. Next to the man, with the door still open, the empty cage is waiting, and the man, who cries now, feels the relentless pain of this moment, surrendering in wet petals of tears...
The little bird realises now that the man has no wings, or may be the man's wings had been so badly impaired that they never had been used. After all, the bird had never fully discovered his wings until he enjoyed his first fly. The little bird's heart is suddenly filled with a strange unknown feeling, some sort of love that knows nothing about boundaries.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I was told that the little bird and the man became very good friends. They dismantled the cage together and with the pieces made a beautiful garden windmill. They had found each other in the core of their dreams, and they now share an infinite sky.
Sometimes, when the wind blows on the little windmill, the sound travels throughout the valley and brings hundred of birds to the man's garden.
And sometimes at dawn, I have seen the little bird and the man's heart flying towards the creek...
I know without a doubt that they share a secret that lies deep in a cage that never existed.
Written in in winter, 2004
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