You Need Not Use Chains On Me Poem by James McLain

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.
For compassion, mercy, and the bonds of our common humanity, I beg thee to make it right.

Do you not see?
I am no foe, no threat.
I am as the waves, ever shifting yet harmless, meeting the shore in soft embrace.
As free as the wind blows, I offer no defiance—only friendship and a prayer, tender as dawn.
Please, I plead, unbind me from this cell, this shadowed cage I rent.
It is not stone or bars that confine me most, but the weight of misunderstanding, the absence of light that mercy alone can bring.

Empathy and forgiveness: these are keys that need no force, that open doors without shattering hinges.
Do we not share the same earth, breathe the same salt air of the boundless sea?
I but yearn to know from you—a word, a gesture, a truth whispered from the heart—that it will be alright.
That the storms may pass, and the willow rise anew.

The ocean teaches me, as it teaches all who listen.
Its tides sing of resilience, its depths speak of mystery, and its horizons stretch far beyond what the eye can hold. It gives, endlessly, without demand or malice.
I write to you as the ocean would, with tides of hope lapping gently at your shore, asking for nothing more than a return of its kindness.

Let us not be strangers across an uncrossable expanse.
Let us meet as fellow travelers under the stars, whose light touches us equally, whose beauty reminds us that even in our frailty, we are wondrous. Please, hear my plea, and make it right—not just for me, but for the heart we both share.

And so I write, as waves write on the shore:
fleeting, fragile, yet persistent in hope. Will you let me know it will be alright?

Yours, in quiet faith,
James McLain