Free

 

 

Abed, the child beseeched her mother

   For a secret she might keep;

Each night beguiled and leeched another

   With “promise” to fall fast asleep.

 

Childhood years were passed in dreaming

   Of the things she’d never tell.

Daylight all too fast came streaming;

   She bade her secrets sad farewell.

 

Youthful rites, played out in fashion,

   Held not hopes nor proffered joys.

Her throbbing heart would shout in passion

   My secrets are my dearest toys!

 

Fertile years were spent in weaving

   Dreams upon her loom of life:

A tapestry that lent no leaving;

   Became not lover, mother, wife.

 

Ancient primal urges vying,

   One by one she laid to rest;

Her song of life, a dirge denying

   The plaintive cries inside her breast.

 

Golden years awakened forces

   Whispering, first soft, a plea:

Your secrets are as taken horses.

 (Stronger now) Child, set them free!”

 

Torn between her true loves dearer,

   And a lifetime’s passions missed,

She turned a face into the mirror

   That never was, in passing, kissed.

 

Pallid, wrinkled, eyes now teary,

   She was moved to set them free.

They, champing, snorting, wise but leary,

   Made through the gate  exultantly.

 

Hooves long silenced, still unbroken,

   Flung up dust (how stung her eyes!);

They having gone so ill-unspoken,

   Now drummed the earth, now pierced the skies.

 

Wildly grieving, blindly running,

   She would seize them back again.

Divorced a lifetime’s binding cunning

   They wed the vast, eternal plain.

 

Freedom’s bliss renewed their rapture

   (How the child inside her cried!)

They evermore eluded capture,

   And in her pain the woman died.