Awakening from night
into low gray clouds
and soaking rain,
the land is quiet
but for tree tops
stirring in the wind.
The forge within
glows with heat,
shaping peace
from the unforgiven.
Compassion frees
the iron bound,
melting the chains
for souls to fly
into the sweet air
of freedom.
photograph by Malte Wingen
Reading of “Free the Iron Bound”
The process of redemption, salvation, recycling of ash that falls in the ascending flame of love. Nothing is wasted. All is forgiven. All is worthy. Freedom is the gift of Life. I love this poem, Don. Thank you.
Thank you, Don. I love hearing your voice and being with you in the early morning light. William Stafford loved the early morning, too. There is a wonderful book written about him by his son, Kim Stafford which I know you would love. It is called Early Morning.
Don, I am drawn to the sound of your voice, reading — this poem and all the others — this breath of life stirring the tree tops, these sweet winds around the world, calling to remembrance — freedom
Compassion is indeed the key to freedom!
Beautiful! Thank you Don!
Thank you Don. I have recently focused on listening to the discussion of huge Cottonwood trees. Where is the wind bound–as in travel? How far does it cast it’s seed? Very different culture of wind and trees..indeed so! Most of my wind experience was with those ocean winds that seemingly are not bound that we sailed upon. But, no less anguish when called for and upon whose sailors abide.
Don, not a long poem but one full of a large subject. Thank you. May the fire keep up with the world’s demand. – Love, Tom & Nancy
Good morning, Don,
This comes across to me, both in image and in words, as a very masculine poem. I note all the comments before mine are from men. I feel a call to strength and power!