There is she, Sitting in her cage,
Looking at something, Far from her reach,
Many thoughts runs through her mind,
But only independence outsmart all,
Independence is important for her,
She recalls the time,
When she was independent,
When she flied high in sky,
When her songs were filled with joy,
When her life was not a life in cage,
Now all she does is sit here,
In this cage, dependent on the one,
Who has in-prisoned her,
For the sake of her beauty and songs,
But she's not happy anymore,
And so are her songs,
They are sad, just like her,
She is slowly losing her hope,
Of a bright and independent future,
Maybe she will die in this cage,
Without reaching for the sky,
But she will try with all her might,
To be free from this cage.

She is the gentle breeze on a summer day
She is the warmth of a fire on a winter night
She is a light in this darkness
She is an oasis in this desert.
She is the fire that now burns in my chest.
She is the air I breathe
She is beauty.
She is love.
She is life.

Winter has broken.
I feel the warmth of spring.
I watch as the world turns to green
Filling again with life.

Waiting for Her to return.

So I sit in the bathtub,
as the shower head above me
sends water hitting up against
my back
my shoulders
my long brown hair...
it occurs to me
that the water
that was once trickling
down my spine
is now circling the drain;
flowing so effortlessly away.
It reminds me
that everything is temporary.
That soon one day
the pain,
the hurt,
the agony,
and the sadness
that I am feeling
will circle the drain too;
and I will be
okay again.