“From Bondage” - 4/1/2026
What does it mean to truly be free
There can never be enough Seders
Enough gatherings of loved ones to answer
The cries for someone to “please come, help me!”
The whispers in the dark from despairing duress-souls
The battered spouse, the parent who’s lost a child
Shots still ringing out the stray bullet that ricocheted
In the wrong direction it wasn’t intended the intended bullet
To go freely, to move confidently to move quickly
But steadfastly toward Freedom can look like
Almost anything but one thing it never looks like
Is apathy whether you’re breaking the chain that
Binds someone else or breaking the cycle that’s held
Yourself captive or looking with others to break
Down the walls that have kept you from moving
In the direction you’ve long known held future’s promise
Freedom is the most precious jewel in humanity’s
Crown on top of every mountain lies a summit
Summit is such a similar word to submit, but
What makes it the most different from it is the
Presence of hope’s glory the pulchritude for which
So many strive laid bare set aside hidden from view
For these days of fasting and remembrance
Of what it must’ve felt like to leave everything
Beloved behind and in a hurry rush toward knowing
Certainty in self-belief spirituality’s Olympic peak
Some years ago - more than I need to consider now -
I literally ran…from a dangerous person, from
Love’s distortion from words and gestures of violence
Having been held captive by Narcosis but survived
The worst of consciousness’ stupefying romance
Being the catalyst for my almost-undoing I awoke
One day so afraid that I might lose myself entirely
To the chokehold of someone else’s controlling
That I cried out confessionally first to myself
Then to my mother then to a friend who swore
To be an obelus reminding me each time we spoke
That, half-dead, I needed to search relentlessly
For hope, for answers, for reality and that I would
Never be alone no matter how isolated I’d become
In the grips of one who was not by any stretch The One
In moments of reflection I sometimes see the faces
Of my saviors disembodied floating like angels
Angels who chose to anoint me with grace but
Most importantly with forgiveness toward myself
For waking up one day and recognizing I’d somehow
Allowed myself to become a victim after coming
So far toward Freedom’s light only to be distracted
Refracted by affection’s intoxicating attention into
Alleys of darkness constriction demise despising
My surroundings and at times my self immobilized
Cauterized pointe-shoe ribbons cut unceremoniously
So my shoes could not be tied still in the heartbeat of
Rituals embedded in my spirit-DNA I KNEW
ONE DAY I’D EVENTUALLY BE FREE
Blessed art thou sweet skeletal memory
Who even in the throes of misery re-members
Bones and skin and blood reforming what was
Broken into majesty, dignity, love’s lucidity!
(Amen)
