Opened

Erecting walls makes far more sense,
So flowers don’t get trampled;
But if I dam the sunlight out,
How will the crumbs be ample?

’Tis safe to cage the eagle in,
And safe to harbor the ships,
But eagles die with a broken heart
Whenever their wings are clipped.

And so, I’ll open up my garden
And let the sunlight flood my soul,
Then maybe, even when I’m pierced,
The sky will fill the holes.