Freedom

Tied up, locked down is my desire to fly. Like the instinct of a caged bird.

I have been told that freedom is the perception of reaching the impossible. Did not make much sense to me at the time. Today I look back and I see all the impossibles that knocked on my door and I did not open. I did not answer, I was not there. My flesh was present, my spirit was not. Where did my freedom go? I ask. Who is there to answer? No one.

Freedom, the scariest feeling of all. Beyond love, faith and desire. Freedom, the bridge between my hand and yours.

(This is probably the last contribution from Silent Reader)