Freedom Day

Sung from the tip of the top of the sonic mountain The voice of the drip of the drops of a tonic fountain The shimmer that possessed the wolf to howl at the moon The demon in the lion’s roar to the elephant’s trumpet at noon Reverberating through hearts and minds like white noise Catching unsuspecting hearts off guard like shooting arrows The dynamic song from a passionate climax and uninhibited shouts The unapologetic magnetic crashing of waves into low-lying clouds Primal cultic and Nordic echoes of ages long forgotten Soothing memories of paradise in a once scenic garden A phantom re-emerging from mist in the valley like dry ice A newborn’s cry to her mother’s ears like mint to her eyes Strung from the acoustic spring that propels that first step The loud drum that is the beating of every obstacle we meet The lyric that carried our voice as one through the dark And broke the ceiling to our minds and to never look back The stop to our tears on the ground to look at self like a watery mirror The musical notes pulled from the air with a fist into our soul’s desire Far reaching, the cure to the broken heart that’s lost its rhythm Without freedom, there's no solemn, and no source of wisdom