crossing borders I did not vote for.
I try to draw a line between what has been
and what is,
but it wavers and blurs.
It's not that my hand shakes,
but that lines you urge me to draw
are a bookman's fiction.
The guards between past, present and future
have deserted their posts.
I am detained indefinitely
in a limbo whose fences
allow me only to hear the thunder
of new dawns that are trying to awaken me
from a dream that has no frontiers,
no barbed wire.
But in this world of the real,
I take the barbs that would separate us
and plait them into a harp
whose music you may hear
when you are ready to.
Look into the canary cage.
The song you hear
is my joy
at yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Cover me how you will,
it will never silence my singing.
15/05/08, 9.06am
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