Poem: A Dream of Freedom

A dream of freedom
A mountain over our heads
The bitter morass, the child doth wail
It looms, the mountain
It looms

Curiously it’s still
Just hanging, right there
Above it’s still, just falling, right there
And the shadow it casts
Just black

The false prophet, he cries:
“The mountain its yours.
There’s nothing beyond, only rock
One place for you, accept it”
Your lot

A shout once stifled
Into many whispers, much louder
Receptive to words, words of the ancestors
A light remembered, the light…
It beckons

Cracks in rock, though small
Through perseverance and dynamite
Widen and widen, minds narrow and narrow
Only one goal, no matter how
AVALANCHE

With structure now
gone and boundaries now
gone, And light it
seeps in; and happiness, it wells up; and joy, it overfl
ows. The prophet, yes, he wails: “Will it! Do it!”
Take your chance, he urges...

And the media urge: use, destroy with it; bathe, run in it; focus, diffuse it; harness, flow with it; whisper, shout about it…
And the people shout: FLY
For the people heard what they want;
and with structure now gone, and boundaries now gone
they did what they want

The sun, it doth burn
The fair skin into charred.
Some heavenward fly, greedy hands grab
Power from flight weary, gasping,
On ground


New masters, same work
Face our toil, without shade
The people cry, oh why, can’t we just
Have a mountain that’s over
Our head?

Annals of history are such
Yet hope, of freedom, still remains
Where shade, not from a mountain extends
But from a ‘canopy of peace’
Amen.