Tilikum’s Stars
A poem for the pandemic
Every morning, every bleak evening,
staring at the same soulless white walls
languishing where there is neither toil
nor rest, for this tiny prison takes
little effort to cross every day
and danger’s always lurking nearby.
Where joy once lived remains only fear
while anger festers where there was love
because no matter how much comfort
there is to be found in safety, the
spirit longs more than anything to
be free, like how it was first born.
The vastness of the Earth’s great wonders,
countless bubbling springs and singing seas,
feel like a million lightyears away.
The colorful festivals of life,
the sweet embrace of a dancing breeze,
are no more distant than heaven’s stars.
Were they nothing more than charming dreams?
So delightful yet impossible…
Celebrations of life and mornings
spent laughing in the long school hallways
riding cars while gazing at the stars
and fragrant red Valentines’ roses.
What will it take for me to see the
world once more with no glass enclosure
parting me from its gorges and hills,
its buildings and roads studded with stars,
the music of splendid love for life!
Oh, how I wish for freedom again.
