living

that inner ache
familiar and persistent has returned to me with a vengeance

that intense knowing, that expanded awareness of living and dying has sensitized my soul to the cost of living today

no thing is free and the proverbial piper must be paid for his playing - even if his song is not of my choosing

even though i can choose otherwise, why would i?

why ignore the lilting song, even though the tune is melancholy and dark

why would i ignore the call to dancing in the street, even if the light is only of the moonlit night, and not of the warm and bright tomorrow?

dance i must and sing i will - for i know the almost-dead living that comes from stilled feet and silenced voice.

i will not return to that castle dungeon - built as it is of cold hard stone - wet and dank and suffocatingly small.

no

i would rather sing even the saddest song and hum it forever
as a Free Man

rather than live still and quiet in the prisons of my own soul's fear.


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