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Limitations


We husband our powers
and imagine we shape our lives like clay.
In truth we make only monsters
cobbled from this
stolen from that
nothing ever truly our own.

Every idea 
from its humblest beginnings
to its bitterest end
passed through the filter of the mob,
whose tongues will wag
and words will burn
if our creature isn’t as lurching and hideous
as their own.

Who am I to them
(or me to you)
that freedom should be so proscribed?

Oh I would sleep, 
perchance to dream
and finally see the wild places
I daren’t venture awake.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

4 comments:

Jae Rose said...

We are bound by limitations it's true...thank heavens we have dreams..where perhaps we can formulate and experience some kind of freedom

March 22, 2015 at 9:40 AM
C.C. said...

I love this idea of seeing the wild places in our dreams that we dare not venture to while we are awake. There is profound truth and beauty in that thought.

March 22, 2015 at 1:34 PM
vivinfrance said...

An excellent wordle - I like the economical way you've used the wordle words, and couplets suit the theme perfectly.

March 22, 2015 at 3:20 PM
Alice Audrey said...

There are plenty among us who walk away from the monsters and dive into the ultimate freedom. Sadly, we always call them insane.

March 23, 2015 at 10:37 PM