Sometimes i wonder what the after life is like
All the time i wonder what makes of life itself
Is it the air flowing through our lungs? is it our constant beating heart? or is it waking & sleeping to routine?
Again sometimes i wonder whether the melody of a caged bird is the same as that of a free bird' would it be the same for the bird even if the cage was painted green to mimic the jungle or even if the cage was stuck somewhere up high enough to mimic the sky horizons
Again all the time i think the joy of the bird is the feel of air flowing through its wings; flapping them with all pleasure of freedom sinking from cloud to cloud & disappearing into the camouflage of the jungle.
What kind of bird are you?
All the time i wonder what makes of life itself
Is it the air flowing through our lungs? is it our constant beating heart? or is it waking & sleeping to routine?
Again sometimes i wonder whether the melody of a caged bird is the same as that of a free bird' would it be the same for the bird even if the cage was painted green to mimic the jungle or even if the cage was stuck somewhere up high enough to mimic the sky horizons
Again all the time i think the joy of the bird is the feel of air flowing through its wings; flapping them with all pleasure of freedom sinking from cloud to cloud & disappearing into the camouflage of the jungle.
What kind of bird are you?