I hardly dare comment on our second post of the week, featuring the theme of Freedom. Reading Mo’s poem gave me shivers. I find it so beautiful and insightful.
Flower Of Freedom
When the voice of freedom calls,
there is no secret prison for me.
No landscape of mind, no survival identity
born out of conditioning and habit.
Do you keep the wild complexity of your
True Nature hidden, buried under fixed
boundaries of fears and
desires?
When you see me, is there a calling,
touching a sense of unknown freedom?
Begging you to walk an invisible labyrinth,
yet the fear holds you back.
There is a gateless gate.
I am like the morning star, blossoming in the light
of both the seer and the seen.
Growing from my Earths ancestors to blossom
and to blossom again, always becoming.
Such is Universal life.
Mo Henderson
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