Freedom is a name of many syllables places and people, a leap of faith that defies constitutional edict executive directive judicial verdict, it takes restrictive arm as dancer takes partner takes rule and bends with smile takes book and scrambles chapter and verse reconfigures flag-color re-mixes anthem without proclamation without anger or regret; freedom is another name left out of the Dictionary of Being to stop definer to stump purchaser to trip destroyer. LEAVE A COMMENT
There are walled cities I am told, marshalled by regimen where minds open and doors close at appointed hour; where life ebbs as in other cities as splendid and poor as structured and free, moment to moment task to task, where custom rules and custom-break subverts unyielding earth for root to seek and leaf to upturn decree’s hard unsanctioned soil, but here the apparitions of the forgotten recovered corporeal form flattened barbed wire, rose above wall to ask ‘who among you is free and who among us is not?’
Not king-made but king-envisioned, speaks of eyes that drew from contour drew for lay-of-land and lay-of-life that saw land that would grain people who would sow and reap from century to century and today we stand on history’s shores and are stilled by the blues and so standing draw from the tap root of heritage resolution and magnitude humility and pride as we cross the hour-to-hour in the vessels of choice and fashion a next moment as wholesome, as tender. LEAVE A COMMENT
