The marshy fields stretch in front me
Inviting me with that sweet smell of earth
The evening breeze brings a lone feather
Twisting and turning in the wind
Making shapes that ought to be the new language beyond sound
My first step surprises me
The moist clay encasing me knee deep
Freedom beckons but commitments hold me back
I take in everything and close my eyes
Letting it sink in and fill me with its promises
I shut the door and return
Immersing myself in the everyday humdrum
No regrets, No remorse
The door is within me, keeping safe my ‘freedom’ behind its bars
The paradox of life is Freedom within bounds and captivity out of bounds
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
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