Who Is Truly Free?
A bird flew free,
as free as a bird could possibly be,
and in its joyous flight across an endless azure sky
was grasped by a hawk,
who’s freedom was perhaps more free than thee,
and in its course for home, where lay
young fledglings hungry and all alone,
that hawk was grasped by an eagle so broad
its wingspan created vast shadows upon the earth,
and as it soared high above, in clouds scattered,
its bliss was all that mattered.
On a cliff high up an escarpment,
the eaglets fed and had not an inkling of freedom at all,
and as mother eagle flew to the desert floor,
a rabbit caught her eye,
and was quickly subdued under claw, until
wolves snatched that eagle, feathers flying,
perhaps they alone with freedom sing,
for even an eagle lost everything,
and now in feast the wolves were parted,
one bullet sent the others fleeing
as one discovered the end of breathing.
A man wiped his brow,
the sweat of desert soaked his wide brimmed hat;
did he find freedom in his life-taking,
or was he just another life forsaking,
and his water bottle was dry, his horse long gone,
no song of freedom felt in his lament,
just a sun too harsh to vent or dismiss,
his life now woven into the desert,
his end an inevitability,
disturbing his sensibilities,
as he realized there was no freedom lost.
How truly free are we
in our woven lives, so entrenched in tethers,
it is hard to distinguish a measure,
as life is a burden, a series of learning,
and freedom only comes from within,
in acceptance of both sin and virtue,
and all else is a binding before it is freed,
attached to us like a seed of knowledge,
so we may find solace in endings,
and freedom in death?
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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It is the way of Nature. Sometimes hard to understand, but there it is. Very well written, Tony, about things we have no control over. Well done.
Thanks Phyllis, so pleased you enjoyed my thoughts. Cheers!