I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

This is not this blog’s brightest post. I have had a few hard, dark days. I am pretty positive that I am not alone. I know that others have had these days, these feelings before; The feelings that result in the phrase: “I don’t want to talk about it.” And truly, I’m not feeling up to talking about why I have had a few hard days, but I know that I cannot hide under a rock. That never makes anything better, to fester in our own pity, so here I am. I’m not hiding. I want to crawl under my bed covers and sleep until I wake up from my bad dream, but I’m resisting the temptation the best I can.

Do you ever get sad and then avoid happiness at all costs? I mean, you don’t want to be around happy people, you don’t feel like watching everyone else’s life fall into place seemingly carefree and easily. Selfish, I know. But do you understand these human emotions?

I thought about not getting on blogger today, because I knew I would see someone smiling while I wasn’t. God told me to buck up and live anyway. So, here I am, going on about my business today. If you’re smiling, by all means, keep smiling. I’m usually not so negative, but I share all these droopy statements in order to request a heart lift. If you are a praying woman/man, I would really appreciate a brief mentioning to our Lord. He is guiding and directing me through these sad feelings, and I know I will be out of the frowny forest soon.

Just slowly rolling over this speed bump in life.

As a literature major, I have the luxury of turning to well-known lines that have guided others through such times in life.

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Below is a favorite poem of mine by Paul Laurence Dunbar called “Sympathy”:

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals--
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting--
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,--
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings--
I know why the caged bird sings!

 

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I don’t mean to be depressing and I hope this post hasn’t dampened anyone’s spirit too much, but I needed a little therapy. The Lord is a good doctor, and I shall feel better soon. Expect more positive posts in the near future.

Thanks to my faithful readers.