Freedom of the Mind

A little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air;
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there;
Well pleased a prisoner to be,
Because, my God, it pleases Thee.

Naught have I else to do;
I sing the whole day long;
And He whom most I love to please
Doth listen to my song;
He caught and bound my wandering wing,
But still He bends to hear me sing.

My cage confines me round;
Abroad I cannot fly;
But though my wing is closely bound,
My heart's at liberty.
My prison walls cannot control
The flight, the freedom, of my soul.

O, it is good to soar
These bolts and bars above,
To Him whose purpose I adore,
Whose providence I love;
And in Thy mighty will to find
The joy, the freedom, of the mind.

-Madame Guyon

Comments

Sarah said…
This is a great poem! So many people think that serving God is all about what we can't do, but that really doesn't even matter when compared with the inner freedom God gives us. Happy "late" Thanksgiving, Kristal. By the way, I have ZORRO by Isabel Allende, too.

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