Tethered

I sit upon a nimble branch

a sparrow just pretending.

I see a path in front of me

that’s narrow, never-ending.

I contemplate what I should do;

a bird just comprehending

the evil songs sung in the night

with words so condescending.

Liar! Cheater! Freak of nature!

These tether me intending

to take the air from under me,

a feather left descending.

So here I sit all by myself

alone and recommending

another song to listen to

this tone is too offending.

The singing stings and penetrates,

and terror’s now impending.

But what if I had heard it wrong

(an error comprehending);

for does a bird not fly above

the storm while still ascending,

continuing beyond the clouds

kept warm from light unending?

And is a bird not free of fear,

a breeze he is befriending,

caressing gently every curve

with ease—all woes suspending?

So as I sit upon this branch,

a sparrow, just pretending.

And see the path in front of me

so narrow, never-ending.

I contemplate what I should do,

a bird just comprehending

the subtle songs sung in the night

with words that are transcending.

Lover! Giver! Gift of nature!

This tether, I feel rending.

So lift the air from under me,

a feather now ascending.