James McLain Chains Poems

To whom my soul yearns and my thoughts are bound,

You need not use chains on me; I am as the willow bending beneath your might. I am but a fragile thing, supple and yielding, swayed by every tempest of your hand.
You, who hold the power to wound or heal, I beseech with trembling voice—not in rebellion, but in reverence.
...

Silver chains gleaming,
Bound by fate's silent embrace,
Freedom's distant dream.
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Do you wish to be chained
high off the floor,
and low to flow and moan?
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You liked to be chained
high up, off of the floor?
Low to rise and flow and moan,
To grow no more!
...