Sunday, May 30, 2010


Freedom, you are
the autumn leaf drifting to the call of the season.
Freedom, you are
the tune forming in a dreamers mind.
Freedom, you are
the paint on a wet canvas
seeking it's own path to redemption.
Freedom you are
a drop of blood trembling on the precipice of a soldier's wound.

Freedom, you are
grains of insidiously shifting sand in a moonlit dune.
Freedom, you are
the mistral's fury unleashed on sun ripened vine.
Freedom, you are
the joyous leap of fish freed from the angler's hook.
Freedom you are
dust motes escaping from a long forgotten tome.

You are the dawn cloud
creeping into the shepherd's croft.
You are the drooping flag that will not fly
for a war that should not be fought.
You are phosphorescence riding the waves
of a turbulent sea.
You are pride
you are joy
you are sorrow
but most of all... you are free.


  1. Always loved this poem of yours. Is just too delicate and evocative.

  2. They are wonderful. When did you get the time to do all this?
    - Bidisha