Caged
Trapped in a world that changes too slowly..
Unworthy, unloved, unprecious, unholy.
The mist of the glass still clouding the view
Of ourselves; a twisted reflection of beauty askew.
So what is this image in the blue light glare?
Are we servant or master?
How much of the truth is there?
We think we're looking outwards..
but really looking in..
Too round, too tall, too old, too thin.
Put down the A.I. and lift up your eyes..
To the trees, to the meadow, to the majesty of skies.
And when we do that, something 'new' will appear
As the melting introspection unlocks trapped fear.
The heart knows it's place.
The freedom-bird it's song.
And we're back in the garden..
Where we were all along.
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