I-in this caged space
Sit hidden, beneath bamboo rods overhead
amidst a lush green crowned atria
I volunteer to sit in the birdcage, with the butterflies and song
perched in the open pergola
I-fall into this open space
In my own backyard, behind the garage, now hidden
even further, behind the black holes of my eyelids.
And I feel the sky, it rumbles discontent when a plane
pushes its way through. A crow objects-to something
while a wren gaily chatters to itself and a mockingbird barks back.
The fountain trickles underneath, like a rushing spring
sounding more than it is.
The steady exchange of footsteps coming
crush the grass and shatter the voluminous silence.
I-give in, open up, and see-this space
and flashing bold colors. The filtered sunlight shows
Leaves prancing over the grey slate stones, that try to compete for my gaze.
Bougainvillea pink paper, peeling skin lays
among the spent honeysuckle bottles. Slowly drained,
looking up to the lattice, it’s a vines race to take over this space-
passion fruit, trumpet, creeper and jasmine-
leaves their perfume trail, in the space we mingle,
cage door always open.
