Freedom

My heart and mind are like a train moving fast,

past stations, and fields, and people and homes,

pressing on and on because people have places to go.

And my heart and my mind- sometimes I put them into the palm of my hand and give them to you because they hurt my arm because they are so heavy.

I wish to know great prophet,

if I strain my eyes hard enough, could I see right into his heart to see if its pure?

If I just move fast enough can I catch myself in case I fall?

Maybe, just maybe, if I work tirelessly for days, I will grow so strong he wont hurt me if he decides to run towards another flame?

And here I am running ragged and my arms are tired and my eyes are achy and if I take one more step I will surely faint.

But as I grow limp, and fall into the deep waters,

I feel my broken body resting on something strong and secure.

My beloved is fast and strong enough to protect my heart,

his warm and pure touch will calm my skin that crawls as it waits for the pain its only known.

And freedom,

it feels like the calm after the storm.

When you have seen the depths of despair, and you finally realize you aren’t strong-

for to feel true freedom, one must realize their own finite body,

and find the freedom of letting another be strong for them.

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3 thoughts on “Freedom

  1. Love seeing those subtle difference between old poems and more recent, the stylizing, the focus on action or states of being, the verbage.

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