The bird in our garage

The bird in our garage

The bird in our garage, spires to the ceiling, in frightened frenzy,

While the garage door yawns, open, to let it free,

Why must it always spiral up, in flight ,

When the exit is plain, within sight ,

Still the heart aches, at your frightened plight ,

Why should the way out always be up, do you reckon?

Fly out lower , to the blue sky that beckons,

Try another route if this one does not satisfy,

Fly out little one, you belong ,with the clear blue skies.

--shubha