Caged Bird by Maya Angelou

Caged Bird
by: Maya Angelou

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.

I love this poem because I think everyone knows this feeling.  We've all felt, at one time or another, trapped or enclosed--somewhere we don't want to be.  And while this poem speaks to the agony of being a black person in 1960's America--someone seen as less than in society, it resonates far beyond that moment to any soul that has ever felt oppressed.

Growing up as legally blind, I never really felt caged.  My parents didn't try to constrain my desire or curiosity when it came to a lot of things.  But they also sheltered me from experiences they likely thought were dangerous or too difficult for me, or they helped me to experience them when they could.  It was only when I set off on my own--when the world finally expected something more of me than "go to school; get your high school diploma--" that I began to feel the cage of my disability.  There are days when the frustration still boils over--the pain and the anger like some primal beast within me wanting to break free--to make the world understand me, to ask it to help me instead of its thoughtless hindrance.  I know the caged bird's envy sometimes when I watch people able to do things that I know I cannot do, and if that inability were ever because of something as ...inconsequential as the color of my skin, I don't know if I could stand it.  My limitations are something I am born with, not imposed upon me by society--but I long for the freedom spoken of in this poem just the same.

Life is full of cages--some we willingly accept, like laws and societies.  But others are imposed upon us by the color of our skin or the amount of money we have.  Still, the bird here doesn't bash itself against the bars of the cage, and though it may rage inside, it sings, timidly, fearfully--but I think, also, hopefully, longing for its freedom.

In that light, I see this poem as aspirational--a hopeful dream rather than a lament.  Because that song, that longing--it is something that not even the cage can prevent.

Maya Angelou -- 1928-2014