Risk, Courage, and Women: Contemporary Voices in Prose and Poetry

why wait?

103 why wait? Amy Freeman Lee When I was in a golden cage, I decided to wait. There was no point In bruising my wings And hurting the heart Of the giver of the golden cage. I waited. One day, the death of the Giver of the golden cage Opened the door and released me. What a strange irony I thought; Someone’s end is another’s beginning. The seesaw of paradox never stops. I waited. Octavio, I said, Carve me a waiting figure. He did in pink limestone; The color was right, But the figure remained trapped In my imagination. I waited. Later on, I found a woodcut. Rockwell Kent had placed a woman In a doorway waiting in the night; She had one heart but two roofs, One belonged to her small house, The other to the goddess of Heaven. I waited. 104 Risk, Courage, and Women Now, every day I place Food and water under the flowering tree For Solo vino, a big, black tom, Who comes torn by the lightning of battles To eat and rest a bit in the sun Only to return to self-made storms, I wait. I place another feeder High up in a tree beyond all cats, It’s for the wild birds—all of them. Their flight patterns and songs Are more varied and engaging Than those of the caged birds. I wait. My feet are on the ground, But at night, I look toward the moon And wonder who pierced the sky So the light could sparkle through. The answer belongs to those who are free. It’s past time to spread my wings. I fly! ...