The whispered bird has flown away
And soars in air that’s free today
The gilded cage could not confine
Her spirit in this prison clime
That whispered bird no longer held
By earthly bonds or dreams she shelved
She’s free and yet the cage is full
Of crumpled feathers from deaths pull
The blood clots on her whitened maw
And feathers robbed by kittens paw
Are scattered on that gilded floor
As breaths of living are no more
But spirits are not held so fast
By golden cages firmly latched
So fly my little whispered bird
Your pleas for freedom have been heard
Poetry. Various urgent, lively, and sometimes haunting poems appear here alongside stark black and white photos of Jones' homeless subjects. Jones takes on the plight of the homeless in different voices, echoing the thoughts of people on the streets,
This second revised edition describes, from Onlinesss Self Awakening perspective, the major Truth-consciousness realm-waves of transcendent Self Awakening
This second revised edition describes, from Onlinesss Self Awakening perspective, the major Truth-consciousness realm-waves of transcendent Self Awakening
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Sandie Angel :o) / May Lu $*_*$
Her spirit in this prison clime
;) loved these two lines...a wonderful piece!