Do you know where freedom is found?
Is it in the sky or in the ground?
On the earth or in the sea?
A robin singing in a bare winter tree?
...
One perfect girl, one perfect child,
Beaten by words, far from mild,
Ridden to her home, to study at day,
Much to her mothers’ disgust and dismay.
...
Stood alone, in a crowded room,
Hoping that no people will arrive very soon.
While masses of decorations, hang from nowhere,
The busy room, appears really bare.
...
Where Freedom Lies
Do you know where freedom is found?
Is it in the sky or in the ground?
On the earth or in the sea?
A robin singing in a bare winter tree?
Could it be here or in another place?
Is it a baby’s joyful face?
Is it a flower, basking in the sun?
Or dolphins playing and having fun?
A purring cat kneading a pillow?
Or the soft warm breeze through a weeping willow?
Colossal waves crashing on an empty beach?
The vast full moon, far out of reach?
A leaf all alone, caught in the breeze?
Or the same wind blowing through picturesque trees?
A desert island, alone and untouched?
A trailing young elephant with his mother’s tail clutched?
Handsome buzzards circling open skies?
Love struck couples, lost in one another’s eyes?
A striking stallion in an open green field?
A camouflaged octopus remaining concealed?
Is it with graceful swans, afloat a lake?
Or in a delicate, peaceful descending snowflake?
A subtle scent in the wind tossed air?
Or the pleasure of a day so fair?
Maybe where, swallows in winter flee?
You know where freedom lies?
Please reveal it to me.