I see her face on every child,
On every bus, in every blink.
She’s calling, pleading;
Her silent voice travels on the wind.
It’s the song of a blue jay trapped in a cage,
Misfortuned by circumstance.
We have never met, never exchanged words,
Yet I know she knows me, counting on me;
And to me she belongs.
I know little of her struggles,
Less of her world,
But still it is me she calls to.
My voice does not travel upon the wind,
I can hear her calls, yet I cannot answer.
She wants for help—for me,
I am the bear in the trap,
Misfortuned by circumstance.

