Standing high atop a canyon
wall, a rising, thermal current
warmed my weathered face with gentle,
smoothest, invisible fingers.
Overhead a lone eagle glides
effortlessly, circling, dipping
downward, ostensibly playing.
His iterate screeching echoes
loudly through the narrow chasm.
Genuine freedom on the wing
but unaware how free he is;
and I who deems to be as free
knows that it’s only an ideal
one that can never be achieved.
Albert Ahearn's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Freedom by Albert Ahearn )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- I do Love You, Dechen Doma Sherpa
- this is becoming a line at red box, Mandolyn Davidson
- Outcomes of Resolutions, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- Nico's Request, Aiyabells 002
- On a condition..., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Milk, Nassy Fesharaki
- Falling Fowards, Metaphorically Speaking
- Distance and time, Tom Squires
- Red-mouthed Small Monkeys, Indian Monkeys, Bijay Kant Dubey
- How Do I Write? How Do I Feel I, Think I?, Bijay Kant Dubey