There was a child and there was a tree

A tree her father sat by while she 

Had her little swing on the side

Allowing her the wind, wild and free.

The father gave the child freedom,

Freedom to be, the sound of her voice

Drowning everybody out to say yes 

And to say no. A pulse that speaks

Of possibility. The child is no child

Anymore, there is no soul to seek

And it does not matter where she be

Left untethered, lonely is her grief.

 

I am that child, I do not aspire.

I do not aspire for happiness

That is not what I anymore seek

All I want, all I want. Is peace.