I have tried, in my way, to be free

A bird on a wire.

A long tailed tit (whose mammy canny knit) to be precise. Lines intersect. Lives, feelings criss-cross. A silhouette. A wee beauty of a bird balanced there trying, in its way, to be free. Free yet framed within the wires. To be free is to see the freedom within the constraints. And I know why the caged bird sings. It sings its inner-life of freedom to the wires, the cages, the constraints of a life. It sings utterly of itself and nothing more. Nature perfected and free.