Freedom

This beautiful bird,
Settling on a perch,
Colourfully bright,
With beak and bite,
And full of pride,
What a sight!

Here in this locked cage,
Again prepares her rage,
The fight of at least an age,
Well-worn this page.

She readies her stance,
For this next dance,
Her beak a sharp lance,
Eyes in a keen trance.

Moving swiftly into action,
Reduces her obstacle to a fraction!

This winged warrior,
Victorious in this skirmish,
Exits her prison with belief,
And with a sigh of relief,
Moves closer to freedom.

Finding comfort in larger bounds,
She claims the next perch,
And with keen eyes starts to search,
For the target of her next lurch.

Working Peace

Breathe,
slow and deep,
It is this that soothes.
Compose,
your self,
It is this that readies.
Endure and accommodate,
You must,
It is this that allows its existence.
Focus,
a warning if you don’t;
if you dare an act of self-relevance
it may disturb your focus,
Focus
Indeed and well,
but you will be weary
if not wary,
It is this that takes away what can’t be returned.

Only Will

I gave up, friend
It’s a long story
But I gave up
The worst part of it is
Losing the spring in my step
Losing the fun in my heart.
Sparking joy out of nothingness,
I don’t have that anymore

I wish it were a spell
It’s a long story
The story is irrelevant

Now all I have left is will
I can will myself to live
To run with the rats!

I can will myself to forget
The story, reason
More at ease with the inevitable
Everyday complicity

But will alone leaves one hollow
Like an empty husk
I know what it is I lost
I cannot will it
Will is all I have

Originally written in early 2014