Freedom: A Poem
Freedom (Romans 6)
“I’m tired of hiding who I
Really am,” he says. And runs in,
Arms flailing, head down, free
Way down in his mind. They clap,
Who stand along the bars. Their
Ebullient words echo off
The cage—dampened by metal.
He clanks and scrapes the chain snaked
Around his ankle. “Now, I’m
Still, even while he courses
Around the cage, that same Voice
That’s always called, calls still.