Free yourself–

peel gently off
the climbing, winding
vines that bind. . .

And breathe into
the icky-sticky tracks
where wickedly invading tendrils
used to grip and cling,

to suck the life
it strangled tight,
right through your
resisting skin,

and to precipitate
your core right through,
thence to create
a lace quite intricate
through your every
living tissue,
hard or delicate,
in the fabric
of your flesh and blood,
a foreign
architecture structure,
which cannot
be located–
nor excised, nor extricated,

and which,
so far,
has perpeturated
more than
a sundry month of Sundays’ ills,
and kept you feeling
thickly stuck
and battling chills,
as on an endless trudge
through rainy mud. . .

From there,
you might just try
to say to you,
as I will try
to say to me,

“Breathe and free,
breathe and free. . .”

Let plenty air
to enter in,
and then
surrender it
to let its exit
come easily to pass,
to be. . .

And, from the deep
glub-dub, glub-dub,
the steady beating of your heart,
which pumps not only
deep red,
liquid blood,
but also
the invisible,
electric flow
of indomitable love.

It is a very
loving heart
that labors, hand in hand,
with a gifted, skillful mind.

Deftly together,
then they spin
a very different
kind of vine
than the one
that held you
such a long, long,
weary time–
so stiff, immobile,
and, to your trouble,
nearly numb and blind. . .

It will grow up
an airy vine,
so soft and gentle,
yielding light
with not much weight,
but filled with fruit
to feed the soul,
to let develop
and proliferate
your nascent freedom–

not just in you–
but, too,
widely ’round to propagate
in smooth continuum,
thus freeing
each and every being
you can find.

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

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