“I want to be free!”
“I want to be free!”
The words echo through time;
It may never come to fruition but, it lives on in our minds.
What does it mean to be free?
Can we do that and still be who we want to be?
What are we looking for as a sign of accomplishment of this task?
We look… We listen… We search… I ask…
Is there life after responsibility that includes hands that are empty?
If it were so, wouldn’t we see hands manicured holding this strange reality?
Is there always a bond, if not embraceable bondage in our lives?
Is there untethered freedom living in bodies that thrive?
We could walk away from all that we see as ropes,
Binding us to things we love, and love to hate, dreams and hopes;
But, wouldn’t that still leave hands filled with wishes, regrets or something?
“Freedom!” the cries can continue on, but what will they bring?
What will they bring, if anything?
Will there be a song to sing, a poem to recite, or a sonnet to write?
When we arrive, will freedom be the dawn that breaks the night?
Or will it be the star that dimly lights the way to a simple path?
We look… We listen… We continue to search, and I ask? What’s the cost?
Whatever it means … I still want to be free.
Even with the ties that bind.
I think freedom becomes me.
Even if the beauty I dream of is not the design
Freedom - I want it. If only in my mind.
