Odes to Clockwork Birds
Who knows a caged bird
Which, after a failed latch, stays?
Before Aegean skies,
Mounting unbound Odysseys
Without prophecies,
Unworn time inks a blindness,
Trepidation’s cell,
Regrets of regretlessness
Only man dithers,
In choosing the chisel’s mark,
Before seizing it,
Phidias doubts he is Phidias
Long silence bestows
The hushed chorus of the If,
Quiet though its words
Blowing without end like wind
Odes of clockwork birds,
Their purpose named before them,
Their song is a hymn,
Do they praise our toy freedoms
Or mock our unwillingness?