the golden shore


what will freedom look like when i put it on?

draped across my shoulders

a covering for my neck and breast- a shield

to protect  and   quench

the fiery arrows of the tempest


what will freedom taste like

as i drink the strong elixir of joy

pausing on my tongue

rushing down my gullet

into the indomitable

center of my stomach

the seat of my senses

doused in the riches

of the resplendent magnificence

an unspoiled vintage

for all ages


how will it feel!

when i lay aside my chalice of vices

taking my seat next to the king

in the presence of saints poets and priests

when he pulls me closer then the secret

that binds me to his breast

my heart beating faster

then the rhythm of the dancers

as his grave yet fiery eyes

loose the soul in mine

evoking my heart for all time

to dance


and once the dance

has whirled me into ecstasy

and all forms have folded into origin

will i then

know who i am

will i be so bold

as to let the song of my self unfold

into unbounded and foreign freedom


the song

the self same song i heard

when the world began

will spiel and blow

its protracted and magnanimous notes

the drums pound their rhythm on the mountains

the flutes and harps meander through rivers and canyons

trumpets blast upon the temples of water

rising in the wind

crashing on the shore

creation groans

as her instruments are tuned

the orchestra is rapt and hush

no says a word

for the last and first movements

belong to the lord


and freedom is found on his shores…



… the brave swimmer

dizzy from the pounding waves

sprinting across water

each stroke propelling him farther

rises with the dawn

resting on his shoulders

one appears as a ghost saying

“strive no more

stand upon the water

walk into me

pass through me

into the crown

which i adorned

when you were young

and the new creation

was yet unborn”


freedom is home on the golden shore

freedom is home on the golden shore

freedom is home!


2 thoughts on “the golden shore

  1. I enjoyed this. Thought-provoking, but with enough treats to the visual imagination as to be a balanced read. Many original lines there too. The ending calls to mind Michael-Jackson-type songwriting. 😉

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