On Freedom

Adjutant thisisnotatrueending.com

Adjutant  thisisnotatrueending.com

We were free then
when we were young
escapees from the tyranny
of parental responsibilities
Then we walked away
without baggage

Wild we were then
when we were young
cottonwood fluff floating
on the hot canyon breeze
our liberty was license
without restraint

We were innocent
until proven guilty
which didn’t take very long
When bruised from the fall
we turned for home
so self`chastened

We are loved now
by those who love us
freely enough to let us flee
as self`willed we run away
too naive to recognize
freedom as the gift

“To obey Love himself, who above all else wishes us well,
leaves us the freedom to be the best and gladdest
that we have it in us to become.” ~ Frederick Buechner


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to On Freedom

  1. the gift, indeed

    Liked by 1 person

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