The purple goose with the silver streak
Flies through the mist of the heart’s shadowy path
To the tower of shining memory life.
Who knows what it means.
No one even knew it was happening
Until I listened to that song.
And now they will want to capture it.
But the bird can only be lured
By the snacks from a bakery built with forgiveness.
That is why the bird will always be free.
And where it seems like a cage, there’s a well,
And where it seems like a wall,
An expanse of mountains,
With a corridor to the fluttering skies.