Liberation’s Sails


Do we fly away,
Drift away,
Stay away,
Or were we ever real?

How fleeting the impressions,
Plummeted by the New today,
Dismissing yesterday as the Old,
Daring tomorrow to invent further questioning.

The labels abound.
Father,
Mother,
Sister,
Brother,
Daughter,
Son,
Lover.

 
Yet how much a part of each other
Are we?

Might it be
We are but separated cells,
Incubated into life,
Rendered a sameness by others?

Yet in reality,
Thirsting for fulfillment,
Compelled to wander aimlessly
We stumble through existence?

To argue such a theory
Is to know
Along the way,
Seasoned lives find
Connections sever.

That like all of nature,
Separations occur,
Drifting inevitable,
Attachments precarious,

All part of a collective experience
Fulfilling the essence of life.

Still…

Such inevitability takes time,
Leaves us free to adventure,
To know self-determined identity
Requires but to hoist liberation’s sails,
Catch tomorrow’s wind,
Leave behind misbegotten time.

And if true …

To watch from afar
The flotsam of the past
Is to discover destiny is of our own making,
Not a determination by others.

As such…

 
That sweetness of breath
Exhaled from Zephyrus within,

Enjoins the infinite space of eternal continuance.