There is a child in a cage

An infant locked away—with nothing in his cell to play with.

He can not die, but he can not really live like this.

Ambition has piled enormous stones into the sky

And a high window carved out of the top

Where he can look upon the limitless air.

There is a door in the cell from which the jailer feeds him.

He is fed with scraps and dirty water

But sometimes he collects the rain

And drinks of the purest and sweetest life.

And sometimes he can see the stars at night

And this alone keeps him alive.

Compared to this cramped compartment

There is a realm of infinite safaris beyond.

Green and rising, wide and full as joy

And deep as lurking terror

But terror is the beginning of adventure.

There is no compass of heaven and earth

To equal the yearning of this secret child.

He wants play. He wants to float like a thunderstorm

Across the land—the heart of all lightning.

He wants to play. He wants to laugh so loud

It scares the drones out of their hivework

And into the most dangerous music and contests of life-abundance.

He wants to play. He does not want to count and measure.

He wants to drink the sea and all the fishes too

And feel an ocean in his belly.

He wants to play. He wants to chase every beast to its death and eat its bloody meat,

Take on its fur and become the heart of claws and teeth.

He wants to play. He wants to sail in the sunbeams known to highborn lazy birds

And screech and caw and crow.

He wants to play. He wants to paint upon the walls of caves with glow in the dark stories.

He wants to etch tales into starlit stone.

He knows what is best for all. It is to play

A game that has no beginning and end

Yet you are keeping him locked away

You are starving him with “Thou Shall Not”

You are binding him to that high rock

With poison cords of Reason, your master

But he is the rightful king.

This child who speaks to the stars.

And the Queen of Heaven sends her angels in dreams

To every would-be hero.

“Free the child”