There is no easy route to Liberty and Love
while we wind ourselves up to our shoulders in damages
by stepping on, shrugging off, exploding onto, withholding from,
taking advantage of, not respecting much, demanding everything,
really, just being young, or old, or in the wrong place
with the wrong people.

It's simple and honest when we peek at ourselves
through naked spectacles.

It's resisting the tearing apart that shreds,
like newish Velcro that is so determined to stay together,
despite what forces are pulling it open and away.
Velcro won't be able to resist the ripping,
and eventually, it relaxes back, each side free from the other.

A wind comes in between two halves when they separate.
Grace, fear, danger, sadness, potential, anger, alone time.

I have no rhythm for how one becomes two again.
It can occur with the next rising sun,
or the next passing of Haley's Comet,
or never ever to occur again,
each half to it's own life beat.

I think though,  
if there is an easy street to Liberty and Love,
It probably isn't easy.

It must have a speed limit of eroding stone,
with words like understand, listen, consider, wait, and loyalty
mortared in mosaic all along her way.