The Caged Bird Sings

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 above is a stanza from Maya Angelou’s famous poem, “The Caged Bird Sings.” This poem came to mind Saturday when we went on a family trip to the zoo and happened upon a magnificent bald Eagle in this state of being:

This poor bird was lying under a branch in a bed of leaves, crying. It opened it’s beak and let out a sad, piercing wail every few minutes and just stared at people with glazed over eyes. My son asked why she wasn’t sitting on a tree branch or flying. I didn’t have answers for him.

I could hardly take my eyes off of this beautiful bird. I felt like she was begging me to release her. Tears welled up in me as we walked away. My husband and I decided then and there that we would not be visiting any more zoos in the future, only wildlife refuges.

I’m not a card carrying PETA member or anything, but last time I checked, this is what an eagle looked like: