I Can Tell You why the Caged Bird Sings

Why a hummingbird would sing the blues

I’ve read a lot of books in my time. Books about cults, and obsession, mysteries, death, morbidity, light, love, and loss. All of it. But I never did read why the caged bird sings? Why does the cage bird sing? What was Maya Angelou trying to say? But now I’ve built that anticipation. I want to know why the caged bird sings, and yet, I don’t want to read it for fear of disappointment. So, I’m forced to wonder, why does the caged bird sing? I’m also a dreamer, a creator of lies and a fabricator of everything amazing I’ve ever experienced. I fabricate ideas, situations, people, and even my emotions. So, it’s easy for me. It’s easy for me to fabricate why that bird in a cage continues to sing. That’s what I meant, that’s what’s easy for me. Anyways, when I try to decipher why it is that this caged hummingbird (that’s what I imagine the bird to be) keeps singing, the first thing that comes to mind is what is the hummingbird singing? Is it singing along to Mozart's piano? No, it’s singing the blues. This hummingbird is singing the blues. The most soulful out of all the music. The most desperate to double – knot their emotions into a plastic bag and throw it out the window. However, the blues, the soulful music, that music comes from the deepest place of misunderstanding, so deep in misunderstanding that you begin to understand things you never did before. Things about your spirit. Blues makes you feel better because it makes you levitate out of your body and find that place next to the ancestors, a little closer to God than you were before. The blues takes you away momentarily. Now why does the little caged hummingbird keep singing the blues? Well, why does anyone sing the blues? He’s caged. He’s caged and he wants to be anywhere but here. So, he levitates with the deep beat and smooth voice, that hummingbird escapes the cage every time he sings. He escapes the cage and sits with the ancestors. He escapes the cage, sits with the ancestors, and is a little closer to God. If I was the hummingbird, I’d never stop singing either. Though, maybe I am. The hummingbird, I mean. Maybe I am the hummingbird.