Freedom

Yoked to the wrong human, there aren’t any feelings aside from the cramp of a cold gray cage

One mad dash for peace and I hear my own pulse again, as a wind sighing through the rushes by the sea

There’s the scent of hope here too, carried on the breeze: a gentle thing and a subtle thing on feather-soft wings

My tongue is cleansed of all bitterness and I drink the cool waters of solitude

Alone but no longer lonely I raise my eyes and see that the sky was here all along