I thought about it
on and on
and on
and on
and on
and again
Til I realized
I am my own
before I am anyone else's
I am free
But I am scared
of being too free


Too much liberty
Can cage me

~

when joy seems lost, when peace is gone;
to earth falls flat pleas skyward cast;
when those thought once to be a friend,
have all gone on, seems none are left;
when ears that heard, yet now are deaf,
when dreams lay torn, and hope bereft.

do not despair, nor call for end,
beyond these mists i am your friend;
your voice, a cry on wing and clear,
not all have left, know i am near;
i am hope disguised as gentle hands,
that reach to sooth the soul in angst.

i am love cloaked as eyes that seek,
the wounded heart that silent weeps;
i am your brother, i your kin,
though not by blood, nor race, nor skin,
yet beats within this breast as yours,
a heart breathed life at heaven's door.

your breath, my own, my will i share,
till yours can breathe, your burdens bear;
my oath, my pledge, your comfort be,
my blood transfused, beats still in thee;
i lend my hope to be your warmth,
i offer arms to hold you close.

you need not face another day,
a lifeless soul who walks away,
a faceless one who’s lost their voice,
but ’til your own has been restored,
to you the lyrics, lines belong,
'til you remember, i’ll sing your song.

~

*post script.

approximately 96 hopeless souls reach the end each day, and pull the trigger on whatever their choice of escape they had planned it to be (that’s one every fifteen minutes).  the number is even larger if we include those who attempt and fail.  if there are only six degrees of separation, imagine how many in your circle this means are contemplating, and are in and out of some level of consideration of making this day their last.  remember, a song is amazingly powerful.  it does not take a fireman to talk someone down off a ledge or a policeman to coax someone into laying down the gun, it only takes someone who is willing to listen, long before the gun and the ledge; someone willing to smile and be hope and notes for a soul who has lost their song... to remind them of the song they have forgotten; their song... hope’s song!

Close to the woody glade
Hidden in the leafy shade
A smart robin built a nest
Like a cozy little chest

With twigs and leaves, it was made
Within it, four eggs she laid
She sat long brooding in her nest
Indeed it was a tedious test
      
      One by one, the eggs were hatched
And four tiny birds that closely matched
Came out breaking the freckled shell
Making the Mother bird’s happiness swell

The mama enjoyed their sweet company
To her, boredom no more came to annoy
The nest rang with a chorus of song
It was made vibrant with a happy throng

      The parent birds fed them taking turns
As they grew, for the sky they began to yearn
At times the fledglings stuck out their heads
Longing to leave their craggy beds

They found the sky blue and clear
Still they were under the clutches of fear
But they knew, outside lay true liberty
Before them stretched infinity

No more did they hesitate
Their mama’s movements they did imitate
They splayed and spread their wings
And into the sky, took off with steady beatings!