Freedom

I've dreamt of you crossing my path
Long before I even noticed I was walking
Of course you didn't knock
and just demanded!
You've wandered the world
Just to cross that path

Of course I fell to my knees and plead
What other options did a slave learn?
But since then
I've worn out the shackles
Tied them to a foreign bed
Until it rotted.


You still walk that path;
This one
You're smoke,
and perfume, and mist.
You're a rhythm
The kind that will persist.

Long after the sound is gone
In the constant movement
Of thoughts and reveries-
That's where we'll meet again
The ancient meeting place.