Freedom, God's Unspoken Word Poem by Amos Doyle

One day I spied upon the gate
A yellow canary in his prime,
Through some mishap or act of fate
He 'scaped his cage before the time
Of Honeysuckle, Rose and purple Columbine.

Against the blue he rose on high
To frost the tops of stone gray Elms.
He spread his wings to mount the sky
Invading Jay and Redbird Realms
From which he quickly fled
To a low slung power line.

I wondered if this golden flyer
Had found that life was sweeter free
Or was a cage his one desire,
His song unheard except by me
And chance observers at my sill.

The smoldering sun died in the west
With blue-white night winds moaning chants.
Then, in the morning, after rest
I sought the bird among the plants
That brave the February ice and chill.

Underneath a Spruce I found
The bird had fallen in the night
And died upon the frozen ground,
Unfinished song, untimely ended flight
For freedom, God's unspoken word.

Now every Spring beneath that Norway strain
A yellow Cowslip lifts up its head
And sings a song of sun and rain,
Far from the cage from which 'He' fled.
Sweeter notes my heart has never heard.