Freedom, freedom,
The promise of something
we’ve never known
A promise from the quadrangle
of possibility unknown
The impossibility is as clear
as the image in the mirror
glanced on & maybe even
studied in a moments ..
what we call a lifetime
While we still are instruments
to call it so,
instruments of possibility
Hope unknown.
A love affair of promise and possibility,
this tragic, impossible durability
as plain as the 11 year old’s
eyes, asking who speaks back
and from where —
what authority unknown
and all the birds’ voices
we never really heard
Retreating so.
revel mama 
Write On.!