Through and through and through
the caged bird tune, it echoes
courteously
Golden notes with raven lining
Peering at those shells that move and speak and pray.
It cannot pause to think - It's already gone away without
those sights. Cannot think a single focus, but a dream
It spills through the thin white bars and rests itself upon
your feet. Inevitable through distance, invisible without.
Grasping air,
arms reach away --
skinny Love, those bones it wraps itself in
mirrored glass and the unseen. Muted thoughts that hear the softness
of the dull,
Tiny ghosts of words divine and silent buried underground,
engraved in nothingness, yet filled with sparks. . .
Blind ideas grow in arid space and still its lungs, its lungs
can bear to breathe as if asleep;
Enclosures of the unsaid, collected and bound,
streams of consciousness flow with upturned arms,
holding blank pages,
locked in the Grey.
And still, the blinking light
seeps through the
spaces in
between
the bars.
