Poetry: Jubilee

 

 

足かせを付けられた人間の足

 

 

JUBILEE

 

 

They bound me without consent.

I moved with the weight of the world upon my shoulders,

each extremity shackled like a slave.

Hunched like a frail elderly man; I attempted to move about,

all the while under the suppression of guilt,

shame, and condemnation.

Shackled by wounds,  I writhed in agony

as they brought me down to the pits of darkness, a land of creeping shadow.

It was there where I was blind to their desire to devour me.

Fallen prey to the animalistic appetite to consume every shred of hope—

Until I came into the light.

 

Under the shining  of the light, I was appalled at their stronghold against me.

The illumination of their strength was all too unsettling.

I couldn’t bear the sight of them.

They surrounded me like a wild forest of Oaks, mocking my every step.

A multitude of tears sought urgent release, to spring forth,

evade the depth of my unconsciousness–but I could not allow them.

 

Yet there in the light was my salvation.

There in the light, their power over me would heal.

It was there I welcomed glorious liberty.

One like I’ve never experienced before.

The rays of jubilee were before me.

No wild forests to cast a shadow,

pits of darkness of oppression.

No shackles, bonds, or crushing burden.

Only life, light and liberty.

 

 

 

Silhouette sich von Ketten lösen und befreien

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Dance with the Dawn

Dawn in the forest image

 

 

A DANCE WITH THE DAWN

 

The soul of the oppressed can rest against the dawning

of the new day. For as sure is the rising of the sun amidst

the celestial crowds, the pains of the former day dissipate

into distant shadow.

 

Hope is set upon the steady train of her golden rays,

as they dress and display those famished of her

liberating brilliance.

 

A golden touch penetrates deep beyond the former

ephemeral skins of superficiality. Her touch is warmth;

dazzling the coldest of heart, adamant glacial minds,

and illest of will.

 

Dance in the buoyant embrace of her comforting wings

and pleasure in the majestic breadth of her expanse, as she lends

transcendent song against belligerent earthly pangs.

 

 

 

Dancing with the dawn image

 

 

 

“My beloved responds and says to me, Rise up, my love, My beauty, and come away; For now the winter is past; The rain is over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing has come, And the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” – Song of Songs 2:10-12

 

 

 

Dove flying image