Sensing Freedom Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Traveling on very little money, never knowing if there'll be enough to get back home again, not really being concerned as long as I can listen to music and write for my time on earth.
Rocking gently, swaying, hoping to find my way deeply into melody's inner makings, taking me to interior depths never been to before.
Feeling the sense of freedom covering me as I plant my feet on grasses in the fields, losing myself in the greenness of it all.
Knowing that at last I've penetrated the last hold on me and now will make sure it never holds me back again.