Navy blue marble mornings,
Still clinging to the shiver of darkness.
Aching in my fingers and ears
Evidencing the zephyr's unkind caress.
An oppressive silence devouring cars and footsteps,
Pets and conversation.
Yet it is embraced, the stillness a balm,
Lending wise council within the maelstrom of thought.
Remarkably conducting the chaos into a concerto.
City stars keeping a staccato beat on the horizon,
A silent purpose statement in the ebb of the valley.
Ay, there's the rub.
How does one free the oppressed who are convinced they are free?
Like elephants bound in twine,
They are potently capable,
Needing only to see past sin's ostentatious facade.
But like the caged bird, they celebrate premature freedom.