“So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!” ~Robert Browning Andrea del Sarto
Freedom. A heavy word
That meant equality, ability
Tranquility, security, consequently
Not a word to be spoken lightly.
Escape from shackles, and
Permission to be whatever
Without written request, sever
Preconception and endeavor
To truly become limitless.
A self-defined concept, individual;
To oneself, almost inherently visual,
A film to play and make continual.
Can’t tell me what freedom is to me.
To you, I can’t tell you what it means;
Respect comes with it, simple queens
Cannot define what happens behind the scenes.
Without boundaries, I can see freedom
With the fall of walls,
Answers to calls
Begging for salvation, that never falls
On deaf ears. I can see it in the
Prodigal son returning home;
Welcomed, nevermore forced to roam
Due to ignorant tomes.
I see freedom at the altar,
Where love priorities over fear,
Where the only shed tear
Is happiness cherished in sincere
Emotion. If I told you that
Freedom was in the child
Sprinting in the meadow, unstyled
And laughing, pure and undefiled;
Would you mock me? I imagine not
But if I shared the thought
That freedom could be found by being caught,
Thoroughly ensnared in the chains sought?
Ah, I imagine then we’d hear a different tune.
There is freedom in finding that one’s salvation
Is another’s hell, that one’s toleration
Kills by degrees without the creation
Of rules. Of trust. Of being clutched
Beside the one who will make you fly;
Freedom isn’t meant to try
And make others understand, to untie
And succumb to another’s views. That’s
The beauty of freedom, it is personal
Conviction, not a gathered arsenal
Of viewpoints accepted for reversal
Of position, no. I can share very little of the expectation
Of freedom desired of my people, I
Cannot speak for another, lie
And agree with their blanket terminology.
I only know that which is in my heart,
A first breath after almost drowning;
Like rebirth, after crowning,
Or being born through disapproval and frowning.
Freedom to be myself, to accept all
That is within, to forge my own
Path, reap the seeds I’ve sown
And decide whether to answer that phone.
If it means that you kneel to the one
You call master, to accept his rules
And subject yourself to all his tools;
Who am I to judge? Only fools
Would deem to ‘set you straight’
When your freedom is in turning it all over
And giving a precious gift, open and sober
Rather than leaving your fate to stems of clover.
The truth will set you
Free, the truth is
Freedom might mean something
Far different than one might believe.
Penultimate, the need for
Trust, for trust brings security
Faith and release from
Doubt and its weight.
To fly without fear,
To ascend without limits;
To trust without betrayal,
To be released.
No judgment or constraint,
Free to launch without
Cruel expectation, just
Be and exist.
Is it a contradiction
To pine for restraints?
Funny you ask me about
A two syllable word
With so much depth.
The history of my people
Reside in this word,
And I could feel
Like a dark shadow
Hovering over the page…
Writing 101 - Daily Poem course. Day 5 of 10 Click here for Day 5: Freedom (2)