I wrote this while living in Whiterock BC, Canada, on 15A Ave March 23rd, 1998.
My favorite place to live was at Crescent Beach in Whiterock, close to the bird sanctuary.
It was a quaint little sanctuary that reminded me of Jasper Alberta.
Imprisoned in a bird cage
Made of wire.
On burns the rage.
Genii was forged by fire.
Dream what she dares.
Go where she wants.
Into the stars she stares.
And you, the unknown, she taunts.
With a song and a prayer,
Down a stream she drifts
Cocooned in a glass chalice.
Freedom she gave herself as a gift,
And nature serves as her palace.
Into an abyss she falls.
Onto the shore of a rain forest she washes.
The waves continue their unrelenting crashes.
Her glass bottle shatters as it smashes into the jungle’s shore.
Genii and the contents of her chalice pore onto the forest’s velvety moss floor.
As the sun breaks the night
Genii emerges from her dream.
In this waking morning light
She transforms into another state of being
And this new entity rejoices in flight.
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