The Free Restless Spirit
there are people ahead of us
and who enjoy their own fame who like to teach us
how to make frames
that there are desired shapes of words
with their own colors and tones
and like light we ought to mix them
to their own
precise delight
when i was new i had always been clumsy
because i always want to think like them
each hour i command my hands to take their
own shapes of fingers
there are always desired sizes and colors and tones
and for years
i have lived in so much restraint that i finally discern
that i am not free
because i must live the way i ought to be like by them
too suffocating
like i am covering my head with
a helmet
so as not to harm myself
from their preconceived accidents
my voice thinned out and my hands
became moles
then too tired to take their commands
i escaped
into the mountains
and i learned the language of the birds and the trees
the songs of the wind and wilderness
my arms become rivers and my feet mountains
my hair the forest and my eyes the sun and moon
my breath is the wind
this is what freedom does
this is the fruit restlessness
this is the poem that you are reading now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Also see the following:
- quotes about colors
- quotes about mountains
- quotes about injury
- quotes about life
- quotes about time
- quotes about language
- quotes about wind
- quotes about music
- quotes about poetry
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