The Veiled Woman

This poem is primarily about the oppression of women in other countries- the "veiled women", but it really can speak to anyone who is oppressed, depressed, obsessed, regressed, possessed...

"Why does the caged bird sing?"
Because if it did not it would lose hope.
There is a mysterious magic in the voice
That travels from her heart to her throat:
The tremble of tonsils,
Twist of tongue,
Out comes the melody like an invisible dancer,
Audibly choreographed,
Masterfully moving,
The tango of the taming of the flaming parrot
In this rusted cage of a throat-
She hasn't spoken her heart for so long.
It is bound to come out in song.
"My prison?" She exclaims,
"It is the passion I cannot claim,
The agendas I have,
The blame, this propaganda perpetuating shame."
She's oppressed by the obsessed,
A muse at best,
But mostly amused.
"There are butterflies in my gut," she says,
"I keep them netted in,
But they are little rascals that have mastered the art
Of rising against the current,
Creating a flamboyant stir within me"-
She has so much to say, when can she?
At times there is a nightingale within her voice,
And it trills the thrills of a dreamed existence
Where she is free to be unveiled,
Where she has not failed,
Has not been nailed to the cross of her past,
Where she has a clean slate of fate,
A destiny to be truly happy.
She wonders, "Is this too much to ask?
Or am I only an owl trying to find my identity,
Sitting atop a lonely tree, asking,
Who, who, who am I?"
She sideways glances at a heron near the water,
Watching its' graceful neck stretch towards the sky,
It ignites in her such an urge to fly!
"Am I really jealous of a bird?" She asks herself,
"How absurd, how desperate, how alone am I!"
This little browbeaten bird in her throat's cage of rage
Is at a loss, tossed in the hands of domination.
Maybe her lot in this life is to live in such a nation of cruelty,
To learn to fight the tide, to rise from the ashes,
To color her children's future a different hue of true.
Said a sage of an age long ago-
"Reach one arm to the heavens,
And the other let tilt to the earth
Dropping feathered fears to be taken by the wind.
Your place is in the stars, dear one.
Sense eternity so close in this moment.
Choose forever; that is your atonement."
She will awaken some day soon
With her veil at her feet.
Her spirit will soar,
Defeated no more,
A burden now vanished in the desert,
Because stirring at the tip of her tongue is the freed, winged creature
Ready to take flight, for she will have gained the courage to finally say---
"I will not, cannot, should not
Live this way"
So, "Why does this caged bird sing?"
Yes, it is true that she would lose hope otherwise,
But something far greater is embedded in this mystery
Of song, of chant, of prayer, of chorus, and call---
It is because it is not really her voice at all.

DeleVan Sonta-an DellErba---all rights reserved.

Author's Note

Because I am a singer/songwriter the idea of having a voice is very strong for me, so I used the caged bird metaphor as the bird within our throats/souls needing to come out and sing what really is within us--- that longing to be heard, understood, emphasized with.

Reviews

[dan zayas]

i really dig yr voice...introspective and illuminating. i can almost feel the interior of yr narrator's throat and heart - embracing the notion of the voice.