These shackles chain my body, not my spirit. My spirit flies free, winging to the mountains I love. I become the cloud that kisses the peaks, the thrush that warbles his joy, the burn tumbling over mossy rocks to a rainbow-lit pool. Maybe I become a fish in that pool, or the gnat teasing him, dancing away from the snap of his jaws. Through green branches of arching trees I weave, seeking the topmost branch to nest in. No man can imprison me, so long as my soul is free. No man can blind me, while my spirit sees truth.
