I am, the Oracle
Whose words branch out
To touch the heavens and beyond
My leaves, flowers and seeds
Burst forth, coherently beckoning
Plucked and carried by the unchained wind
 
Caught in the chant and soulful songs
Of the growing discontented throng
Marching, dreaming, crafting
Freedom
From phantom liberties
Declared in law books
Yet hardly felt or owned
By those starving, weeping, harassed
Crushed in pockets across the globe
 
I plant in loving expectation
For you to reap
Free – from- Doom
Freedom… 

© Su

day 2 | 16 August 2011