Sing Me To Freedom

I had hoped that this week’s update would be more upbeat, but life happens…and sometimes it feels like way too much of life happens for one small day to contain. Today was one of those days. So this is something I just sat down and wrote tonight pretty quickly.

 

Sing me to freedom.

Sing when it’s crowded and loud,
All around,
And the birds have lost hope that the morning approaches,
Keep singing the words that I can’t swallow down.

Sing in the moment
Of deep desolation,
When hurting and death are like trusted old friends,
And the birds bide their time, as the evening encroaches,
Just waiting to feast on what’s left at the end.

Sing songs to freedom.
Its mythical presence,
Its maddening perfumes that poison the air.
No wonder the birds can’t sit still on their haunches,
Keep moving or else it might cease to be there.

Sing for the saving
Of sinners and saviors.
They still don’t believe even after these signs…
Their glances are skittish, they scatter like roaches.
To flee from the birds and their searching black eyes.

Sing as the sovereign,
The one who is surer
Than all of the ones who are stuck with their sight.
Your songs – are they sturdy? They sputter like torches
To those of us stuck in the mire of this night.

Still…
Sing us to freedom,
We beg you to sing it.
Though we have but scorn for this holiest state.
Though we join the birds in their songs of reproaches,
Though all of our hopes become shackled with hate.