I know why the caged bird sings...

I was born to sing. My earliest childhood memories revolve around fake microphones and little stages...before I was potty-trained, I was singing my own tunes and sharing them with whoever would listen. Was this my destiny? No, I don't think so. It was my gift- my passion.

For the past few years, I have been longing for this part of my life. There was never a time that I could remember when music was not a part of my daily or weekly activity. However, for the past 7 years, music has been put away. When I moved to Florida, I allowed a series of events to stifle my gift. Funny enough, it doesn't even matter what those events were...I was so hurt by these that I quietly tucked my song away.

I am sitting here today remembering some of the most beautiful and passion-filled musical times in my life. Songs were written, songs were sung, songs were shared and were done so with ease, leadership, spirituality, vulnerability, and passion. I can remember the freedom in my voice as if it were only yesterday. Now, as I think honestly, I realize that these days were some of the hardest days of my life. These days were filled with pain and torment. I was going through some of the roughest terrain I had ever navigated and doing it at such a young age. I was stifled- my person, my heart, my dreams- were all dictated by someone else's selfish and mean ways. I was a good woman- I was faithful to the decisions I had made and kept every committment I made. Because of this, I was living in a prison of my own bad judgments.

This morning, as I woke up, craving music and sad that I have missed it for so long, I was reminded of Maya Angelou's "Caged Bird".

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing 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 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.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and 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.

Today, I am no longer a bird caged to fear and torment. I no longer see freedom as a distant dream. I do believe, however, that those same songs that I once believed will inspire me to renew my passion. I do believe that somehow, this time in my life will live on through my songs. I do believe that my gift and its time are not over. I know why the caged bird sings...and that song is filled with passion and desperation. I also know that when that bird finds freedom- the song must be sweeter...