Two stood upon a hill to watch the stars.
Will he who sees a lesser light create
a rhapsody? Indeed, will compromise
to glory sing of supernality?
The weapon of the liberator is his sword,
dividing thought. The one who questions
may not be the swallower of status quo;
the watcher on the hill will not become
the wallower in pain.
Each one receives the gift
to stand aside, to celebrate his liberty
and not apologize.
To join the flow of life, not death
and sing there in his heart
of flowering, and not decay,
to flout the politic with MLK
and see in compromise a death to tolerate,
and then to mourn.
I am free
to sing a thousand songs of love kept close
and bursting to adorn my tribute
to the marchers off to war. I would spread
the barrier of peace before them"
would display my tears without regret
and I would plead
my weakness, my hypocrisy,
my mindless hope.
For I am free.
~