
Bird in a cage
I read this fascinating poem by Madam Guyon and thought I would include it here for your edification: It's called "A little bird I am"
A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air;
And in my cage I sit and sing to Him who placed me there;
Well pleased a prisoner to be,
because, my God, it pleases thee.
Naught have I else to do; I sing the whole day long;
And He, whom most I love to please, Doth listen to my song;
He caught and bound me wandering wing, But still he bends to hear me sing.
Thou hast an ear to hear; A heart to love and bless;
And though my notes were e'er so rude, Thou wouldst not hear the less;
Because though knowest as they fall, That Love, sweet Love, inspires them all.
My cage confines me round, Abroad I cannot fly;
But though my wing is closely bound
, my heart's at liberty.
My prison walls cannot control the flight, the freedom of the soul.
Oh! it is good to soar, these bolts and bars above,
To him whose purpose I adore, Whose Providence I love;
And in the mighty will to find the joy, the freedom of the mind.