Music in my heart

Now, who would think it a better plan,
for a little bird to be,
trapped in a lonely cage,
Confined to a cold existence,
with naught of worth to see.

Shut inside from the sun's rich glow,
where she had known the light,
No more to fly in a continuous sky,
with countless friends in flight.
Kept from the softest clouds of heaven,
never to soar in their lofty height,
Unable to control the fight of the day,
or revel in the joys of pure delight.

For someone chose to put her there,
the cage door tightly barred,
She crouched down deep within,
her life forever marred.
She turns around so desperately then,
with little to own but a dream,
No more distracted by physical power,
or threat of enemy scream.

She hankers long for things she's known,
but wishing is all in the past,
For now she can only see with her heart,
with nothing else to grasp.
Her sight becomes set on distant wonder,
as she stares beyond the bars,
Way yonder where the peaceful breezes reach
and rustle high among the stars.

The warmth of the son begins to shine,
as heaven becomes her own,
For she finds sweeter beauty now,
than in other heights she's known.
Because of that cage of deepest despair,
because of that drooping of wing,
Her heart overflows in freedom within,
and her throat is compelled to sing.

Now her soul will chorus the more, not less,
for within the heart is a desire to sing
That nothing can suppress.

Soft Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems
© 2004 used with permission

I believe in the sun, even when it isn't shining
I believe in love, even when I can't feel it
I believe in God, even when He is silent.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers...
That perches in the soul...
And sings the tune without the words...
And never all.
~Emily Dickinson~

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