I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

“A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns 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 Know Why The Caged Bird Sings ~ Maya Angelou

April 4, 1928 - May 28, 2014

I don’t remember how old I was when I read this for the first time…but I do remember it was after my initial experiences of abuse between the ages of 4-6. Reading I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings had such a great impact on me. I recall shutting the door to my bedroom as I scoured the pages over and over. I wanted to privately cherish my new personal relationship with this person who understood me. It was like I found abandoned treasure no one knew about but ME. The literary composition provided a sense of connection; like I wasn’t alone anymore. As I read, I was comforted knowing that someone else understood the confusion, fear and disconnect I was having with humanity.

At an early age, I felt a bond with books; especially those revolving around a heroine that went hard against the grain. I aspired to be Jo from Little Women and I just knew I was Laura Ingles Wilder reincarnate. When I read this legendary work of art by Ms. Angelou, I felt like she was telling me personally I was going to be ok. She inspired me to believe I could soar as high as I wanted in spite of my clipped wings and I didn’t have to allow anyone to hinder the success I defined for myself. 

I’m not one to feel emotionally connected to many people, especially famous people or anyone I haven’t even met. Reading of Maya Angelou’s passing made my stomach drop and irrepressible tears to pour from my eyes. I regret never having had the chance to meet her in person or convey how inspiring her works have been for me. I know she transformed the lives of many Black women and paved the way for radical poets and authors. She opened doors and created paths for many to sing as they soar in pursuit of their dreams. She embodied the true essence of a phenomenal woman and I aspire to touch at least one life the way she touched mine.