I'm Lowkey Calling Bullshit On The Whole Land Of The Free Thing I'm Sick Of It - Tumblr Posts

Freedom is in the wind,

     in the restless flow and lack of restraint,

     and in the way gusts brush against skin before slipping past.

Freedom is in the cool desert breeze after nightfall,

     in the sand liberated of the ground in ripples,

     and in the voices of coyotes carried for miles on the air.

Freedom is in the raging winds of a hurricane,

     in the currents whipping around and through all that dares stand in the way,

     hurling hail and rain, swifter than the bat of an eye.

Freedom is in the murmuring gusts twisting through the forest,

     singing arias through willow branches,

     and turning the fluttering of birch leaves into a lasting applause.

Freedom is in the howling of a winter’s blizzard,

     in the phantom whispers writhing between the pines,

     and in the relentless dance of snowflakes amongst the sky.

Freedom was never something for a land to claim,

     unchanging and unmoving as land tends to be.

But rather for the open air and ethereality of the wind,

     never tiring, never settling.

~ On Freedom