“Free”

 

c. 2024 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(3-24)

 

 

Peering through a veil of coffee and toast

Like a wayfarer sailing from the coast

In search of a self as yet unfound

I’ve wandered for a long time on this trip

A voyage of metaphors, taken like a time slip

My roadmap tossed carelessly on the ground

Let me be free

 

Looking over the crust of day-old bread

With thoughts of sacrifice looming ahead

A choice to make from options, clear

Sitting before the throne of grace

With the sun shining sweetly upon God’s face

My voice trembles as I confess my fear

Let me be free

 

A document dutifully prepared by law

That judgment is what the sinner saw

The kernel of my identity, in its flesh cocoon

I knew what the ancient texts proclaimed

But still stayed shy, so near to the flame

With a lump in my throat like a gulping groom

Let me be free

 

Nothing here could have delivered my sin

To be washed away by the blessed him

Except for a miracle that cautious observers could dispute

So I took my place in the receiving line

A cautious, careful fish on the line

With a barbed hook stuck through the shaft of my boot

Let me be free

 

I wondered about the bargain, struck

For a case of bottles in my pickup truck

A haul not quite so grand as some

This prize received made me think of riches

And cheating, chuckling scoundrels in the ditches

Squabbling over circus trinkets, unfairly won

Let me be free

 

About a mile beyond the border

I turned back to find a list from the hoarder

To get an idea of what my reasoning with rubes had produced

I counted one thing and the next

Like a schoolkid studying for a math test

While scattering my bounty, fast and loose

Let me be free

 

It never once occurred to me

That this gamble was taken foolishly

I was too busy standing tall against the azure sky

But when the western winds began to blow

And a quake was summoned from down below

Then I held my head and closed my eyes

Let me be free

 

The stone then rolled away like a pebble

The prodigal son had finally made his mettle

It was a miracle like I had never seen before

I kicked and clawed and fell in the sage

Took a lesson from that apocryphal page

Left it hanging from a dart on the sanctuary door

Let me be free

 

A hundred years right to the day

I remembered the cadence of horses at play

And imitated those high steps and hopping hooves

It gave me enough of a bounce to bolt

A lightning strike on my soul

A seeker forever on the move

Let me be free

 

I started running across the plains

With the urgency of a pilot petitioning holy names

Lost and yearning to find an escape

But something in that mood of contrition

Improved my overall condition

It let me hold my breath and levitate

I was free

 

The story ended with a lilting refrain

A repetition of saints, called by name

Something that surprised me slightly as I dashed

Footsteps falling on the ground

And nerves fortified by coffee grounds

I had finally made my quest to find the cache

I was free