Free

When the weight of the world becomes too absurd,
And I stir at each sound, each trivial word,
Haunted by shadows, the specter of fate,
The looming disasters that knock at my gate,

I steal from my bed with a sigh and a groan,
Cradling my doubts like a prize of my own.
Down to the pond where the wood ducks preen,
Where the heron stands, aloof, serene.

Ah, these are the souls untroubled by thought,
Untouched by the fears that humans have wrought.
No brooding on failures or worry’s cruel tease,
Just ripples that dance in the arms of the breeze.

And over it all, the stars in disguise,
Drowsy, indifferent, aloof in their rise.
They wait with a patience I’ll never possess,
Untouched by ambition or mortal distress.

For a heartbeat, I’m tricked into quiet release,
The world and its jests forgotten in peace.
And I, for a moment, allow myself glee—
The scandalous luxury of feeling free.