In 1963, he fought for Freedom.
Freedom.
Freedom.
But too often I find myself asking myself
What
Is
Freedom?
I watch as my little sister plays with this precious butterfly in her grasp
A butterfly she caught as soon as it escaped from its cocoon.
She’s had it for days now
To the poor butterfly, it must seem like years
Her innocent grasp
Her soft, young fingers
Clenched so tight as to not give the butterfly even a chance to escape
From a caterpillar crawling and eating leaves.
Worked hard to build itself its cocoon.
Remained in this cocoon.
Awaiting it’s
Freedom.
To this empty jar
This child’s cold hands
A simple, innocent insect that is the epitome of freedom
At the hands of a child
Has it taken away
I look at my life
My parents
My family
My ancestors
How many times has this been the case?
How many times has our freedom been snatched from us?
If it ever even was given to us
It’s 50 years. This year, it is 50 years.
Dearest Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, how would you feel if you were around now?
50 years later
only to find out
that after all this time
your dream
still hasn’t come true
I tap my sister on her shoulder.
“Let it go” I whisper.
And she does.
The butterfly,
With more energy, air and life than I’ve ever seen before
Flies away
High up toward the large soft clouds in the sky
And though this is not possible,
I swear I see it smile
With the strongest, happiest and vibrant voice
I hear it whisper
“Free at last,
free at last,
thank God almighty,
I’m free at last.”
YOU ARE READING
What is Freedom?
PoetryA short poem reflecting on freedom, after seeing a child capture a butterfly. Remembering Dr. Martin Luther King Jr's dream and wondering what he'd think if he were around today.
