Bare boards and whitewashed walls are canvas made
For palette, born of starlight, born of stars
To paint the night, her shadows and her shade,
Where fingers stretch to reach beyond the bars;
Sad blinking eyes accustomed to the gloom
Reflect on light and life, reflect the night
That fills the mind as darkness fills a room,
That pilfers hope as blindness pilfers sight;
How silent is the bird song on the air?
Their mute lament that revels in despair.

Look East to gaze upon low rolling hills
Awash with midnight blue, a gentle hue
That gleams the more for taken tiny pills;
Look East to see the old, to see anew
Each folded band, each friendly contoured shape
That undulating, sweeps down mountain side
To drape horizon with majestic cape
And paint the world as water paints a void;
How flightless are the birds upon the ground?
Their useless wings that fail to make a sound.

Look down beneath the hills unto the square,
Perfection of a frame within a frame
Where many ears are waved without a care,
Where wheat is grown and reaped and sown again;
Look down upon the cypress border fence
That guards the golden realm within a realm,
Enter that inner world of wild pretense
That threatens to consume and overwhelm;
How woeful are the birds among the wheat?
Their hunger grows and yet they do not eat.

Explore that inner space, that magic place
Where thought is real and real is but a thought,
Where dreams are born to die without a trace,
Explore to see the lies that eyes have bought;
Look down upon the wild and bustling town
That sits beneath the hill, with busy lights
That paint the scene with colors yet unknown
And lift the world to fresh imagined heights;
How distant are the birds that wander here?
Their loneliness relentless with its fear.

Look high above the world into the night
Where palette, born of starlight, born of stars
May tempt a soul to soar in endless flight
Beyond the room, beyond cold iron bars;
Look high to see the bold untainted white
That holds the key to every color born,
Behold her ****** sweet unsullied light,
A Goddess Venus, solemn and forlorn;
How can a man behold one such as thee
Yet be content to live a mortal man?
A soul must learn to fly, yearn to be free,
To reach the stars, to be all that it can!
Yet here for all the yearning, all the dreams,
For all the numbered nights that counted stars,
Long nights awake to wonder what it means
Forever trapped behind these iron bars,
A soul has learned that even artistry
That elevates a man to greatest heights
Can not unbind the chains and misery
Of one condemned to live a mortal life.
*How thoughtless are the birds without a care?
Sometimes I wonder if they're really there.