Wilma's Poetry

 

 

The Cage

One morning as I sat in anger and rage

I listened to my canary in his little square cage.

He was singing so beautifully, in such a cheerful way,

And I'm not sure, but it seemed his singing that day

was in praise and glory to a great God above

Who abundantly showers us each day with His love.

 

And I asked myself, I remember that day;

"Why should he be cheerful and happy that way?

He's bound be a cage, and can never be free!

He has nothing to sing about that I can see!"

But yet he so cheerfuly sang on in glee,

and a little thought occurred to me.

 

I too, was bound in a little square cage,

The bars of which were made up of my rage!

Bars also of fear were shining at me,

Bars of bitterness, depression and self-righteousness, you see!

I was bound by the invisible bars of my sin--

but real and confining--I was a prisoner within!

And the song of my canary on that self-searching day

Helped set me free in such a wondrous way!

 

So I exchanged the bars of my cage that day

As I went to God and began to pray.

I exchanged them for bars of His great love

Given so freely to us from above.

And now I'm bound by God's great grace,

and like my canary I'll sing His praise!

I've given to Him my anger and rage,

And I'll sing to Him freely, in this new cage!

 

� by Wilma

 

 

Wilma's Poetry