Free "Spirit"

My fist in the ground, entangled in the mud,

Becoming roots essence, to unearth our origins.

Like a fish stuck in the mesh, as if

A hook in my flesh

My breath floating over this sea of possibilities,

Our familiarity isn't just a dream baby.

Our hands up, feeling the rain, welcoming it or

Asking for circumstances to change, but

Ourselves, not even wanting to change,

Always wanting more, never the less,

Stealing our neighbours’ harvest and,

Accusing them of theft!!

What if we could have loved the least,

And stop bearing this obsession of having

More possession, maybe it could be the door to

Freedom,

Freedom of being bored, of saying our feelings

Freedom of being called a “free spirit”.

We could be less judgemental of people,

Who choose to be different, and embrace this strength,

Less critical of people who don’t see the Divine light as we

Pretend to see, more comprehensible, more emphatic.

As the light is found inside, everyone shines in its way,

Even the most wanted criminal.

My fist in the ground, I felt a burning sensation connected to my chest,

Your breath on my neck, was more than I expected,

Our freedom was challenged by our old behaviours,

Our life was not more important than anyone else.

Our perception was changing, because we found that

The change was from the inside out,

THE FUCKING INSIDE OUT...