The birds’ favorite songs, you do not hear,
For their most flamboyant music takes place when their wings are stretched
Above the trees, and they are smoking the opium of pure freedom.
It is healthy for the prisoner to have faith.
That one day he will again move about
Wherever he wants,
Feel the wondrous grit of life–
Find all wounds, debts paid.
I once asked a bird,
“How is it that you fly in this gravity
“Love lifts me.”