Quilting the Poems

Freedom Is Not Mine Yet

Shackles of shame bounded my thoughts,
but then I learned to read,
to ask, to persuade and to convince.
Freedom was not mine yet,
just a dream was born.

Wisps of their wishes dictated my future
but then I learned to earn—
money, my respect and my home.
Freedom was not mine yet,
just a life was initiated.

Gilded cage of traditions kept me captive,
but then I learned to see—
the blue sky beyond and the green grasslands.
Freedom was not mine yet,
just a thread of way was formed.

Expectations of family tied me to the wall,
but then I learned to flutter those wings,
little by little, inch by inch.
Freedom was not mine yet,
but a flight was borne.

The cage, shackles, the ties still exist,
but I learned to compromise,
and to make them compromise.
Freedom is still not mine yet,
but every day, I soar a bit higher.