Now I'm free
From wicked thorns
And lives on sticks
Dangling
Like hanging men

And the silence bathes me
The night-eyes keep me clean
And I smile
Under the first warm moon
For many a blue sun

Now lets dream about
The stars
One of the most perfect dreams
On still nights like these
I could be happy

I could be old
And sigh in my sap skin
Like trees with dream roots
And deeper, drinking highs

I could be young
Or ne'er born again
And cry out
For the sake of hearing myself
Feel something newer than me.

I could be free
And tweak like the bird
Air about my brow and
Flowers about my face
Yes, sir, I could be free

Yes, madam, without you
I can be me.