Now, who would think it a better plan,
for these little birds to be,
trapped in a lonely cage,
Confined to a cold existence,
with naught of worth to see.
Shut inside from the sun's rich glow,
where they had known the light,
No more to fly in a continuous sky,
with countless friends in flight.
Kept from the softest clouds of heaven,
no more to soar on lofty height,
Unable to control the turn of the day,
or revel in the thrill
of sheer delight.
For someone chose to put them there,
the cage door tightly barred,
Crouching down deep within,
their life would seem forever marred.
They turn around so desperately then,
with nothing to own but empty dreams,
No more distracted by physical power,
or threat of enemy screams.
They hanker long for things they've
known,
but wishing is long passed,
For now they can only see with their
heart,
with nothing else to grasp.
Thus their sight now set on distant
wonder,
they stare beyond the bars,
Way yonder where the peaceful
breezes reach
and rustle high among the stars.
The warmth of the Son begins to shine,
as heaven becomes their own,
For they find sweeter beauty now,
than in other heights they've known.
Because of that cage of deepest
despair,
because of the clipping of wing,
Their hearts overflow in a new freedom,
with throats compelled to sing.
Now their soul will chorus the more,
not less,
for within their hearts is a desire to
sing...
That nothing can suppress.
