When the life within’s
not flowing free,
it wouldn’t matter
if you could
the attic
or the antechamber
to a height
or width
or depth
so great a stretch
as ten,
or maybe ten thousand, leagues–

There’d still
just be
no place
to breathe! . . .

what is cluttered,
clumped, compacted
to the point
where it’s been blocked
would be,
to the lock of your potential energy,
the kinetic opening key. . .

And with a turn of that,
your vision
will blink open,
lungs expand,
so, finally, you can
fully enjoy to sing
your favorite song,
as though it were
some sort
of delicious, and illicit

And you will even delve
into your inner sanctum self
to excavate,
and well unearth the verve
which grants your inhibitions sweet release,
so you can go so far
that you are apt to DANCE!
and glory in all space–
without, within–
which is flexible enough to make
your strongest voice’s note
ring sweet as the acoustic softly gathers,
but can equally
to clear and silver tones inflate
the echoes of your nuanced whispers. . .
You’ll hear.
And see.

And you’ll feel
you have nary a need to shout
and plenty room,
and reason, too,
to groove about,
and swing and sway
your very own and special way
and sense the smile
that has by now
come to your jaw
and spread your lips
at the pleasure
of the relaxing power
that you can
only know
when you are free.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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