Cages by Christine Swiderski



There is a cage which we stand and rage

Our hands are not limp

Fingers are white knuckle wrapped

around each bar, we set in place

Keeping apart from those who care

Holding each cold steel bar

encasing the bereavement within

Bending back those bars

One at a time

Releasing the burden upon our souls

Takes time and courage

Opening the door with a slam

Relinquishing the damage and hurt

Giving it to our greatest love

The great soul who breathed air into us

Creating us in His image

Never wanting us caged but free.