Wind For Sale by Apollo Ra Apollo

A little birdy once told me

That they were paid to live in that cage

And that they stayed

Because the windows played crescendos whenever they’d gaze

In majesty of what lies beyond its maze

I ponder, as a wanderer of its possibilities,

Why it stays enslaved to the illusionist

A hallucinogen of the smoke from its mirror

It shadows the reflection of its image

It is the bird that gave imprisonment its name

Yet the bird doesn’t recall from which wing of freedom it came

Then sold its wind for a window seat on its own plane

The real shame is the view will never change

Just a pretty penny, blemished and stained

Buying the time to tell

The revelation is the wind was never for sale

Apollo is a poet, spiritual creative, and storyteller who weaves themes of healing, transformation, and higher consciousness into words that awaken the soul. Through poetry and metaphysical insight, he creates spaces for reflection, empowerment, and remembering the self.