Thanks for coming by to take a peek....
I'm here to share another journal page with you all. This is one of the very first pages that I ever journaled.
Flashback....
In 1977, when I was 14 years old, my sister made me read the book I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by the great Maya Angelou. Basically, the story is an autobiography and also a piece of literature. And after I finished reading it, she made me write a short essay on what the story was about and to tell her the answer to the question. I remember that when I read the book, I was angry, sad, confused, empathetic, and then brave. I remember that when I answered the question, my sister smiled at me, hugged me, and then walked away. I never really understood what that part was about, and never asked. But I did figure that I must've answered the question correctly.
Anyway, here it is
notice anything about the bird?
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Maya Angelou
Sometimes we hold ourselves back from the things that we want. More importantly - need. It's not always someone else, or something else. It's usually our own fears, our own insecurities, money, sometimes just not enough confidence in ourselves. Sometimes things happen to us; over and over again and we don't know what to do, or how to handle the situation. I personally go back and forth, fighting with myself over things that I want but don't know how to go for. Struggling to let go of things that hinder me. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. Most times, I come to realize that "it's just not my time," and I turn it over to God. He who can move mountains....
Thanks for joining me on my little throwback into my nostalgia. It brought me to happy tears thinking back into that little piece of sisterly love that she probably doesn't even remember. But I do.
Hugs+Kisses
Renee
1 comment:
I have to tell you Renee...I love love love this whole post! I've never read the whole poem before, so thank you for posting it. Maya Angelou never ceases to amaze me. There's always been something in her tone and manner that reminds me of my grandmother or maybe she just has a very loving grandmotherly way about her.
It's interesting to see how long you've been an artist!!! The page in your art journal you posted looks like something much more advanced than a teen would produce!! Oh, and judging by the year you mentioned, I think you and I are right around the same age! Haha!
Thanks for stopping by this week! I always love reading your comments...SO MUCH better than others who write, "nice card." Hahaha!
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