Memories of a Slave
(Girl playing, Tibet, 2009)
Memories of a Slave
The world, at least my world, is nothing if not predictable.
There are moments however when the Sun breaks through
and a real unexpected, enlightening, light shines.
Usually this is in dreams when I begin to float or fly,
but sometimes it’s just as simple as laughing
at the absurd twist of something someone says.
The effect though is joy, a moment of euphoria
when something is released, someone liberated.
I wonder about this
what its evolutionary purpose is
(rewarding innovation and novelty perhaps?),
but it strikes me as true
kindling a memory
that runs deeper than my own life,
or place in evolution,
that this is just the joy of someone,
who has been a slave from beginningless time,
when they get a momentary glimpse
beyond the ties that bind.
(12/13/23)
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