Freedom.

If birds are free to fly,

Ride warm winds and fill the skies.

Why must they land to feed?

Or hide in grass or weeds?

From what I can see,

No bird is ever free.

If a cat is free to wander

To amble from here to yonder

The ability to forever roam

Why is it tied to a place call home?

From what I can see,

No animal is ever free.

Your forefather was once set free,

Given his vote and his liberty.

Yet he was shackled by another man,

Paying rent and working barren land.

From what I can see,

No man was ever free.

Today, freedom must supremely reign.

Yet babies cry at birth and live in pain.

Holding hands when bad news strikes,

Giving solace through the night.

For all I know and its value worth,

There is no freedom here on earth.

My dear father and friend,

This is where our journey ends.

And our mortal bondage parts,

As we console our broken hearts.

Death marks your liberty.

You are free, you are free you are free.

Free of diabetes and insulin,

Free of sore backs and pains within.

Free of work and the daily grind,

Free of tax and the taxing bind.

From this wicked world and its absurdities

You are free, you are free you are free.

See the cat with its tethered mind

Awaiting his next feed; passing time.

Watch the bird living on the wing,

Must build and feed before it sings.

Take the star marked sweet heavenly

There’s your mum, Martin and your sisters to see.

Admire paradise gracefully abound,

As we return your earthly coat to the ground.

We’ll meet again by the river side,

Where love’s a plenty and peace abide.

We’ll reminisce under that apple tree

We’ll sip rum and coke for eternity.

You’re our guardian angel now,

Feel our hurt and wipe our brow.

Our hardened days are duly spent,

Ploughing on to pay our rent.

In the darkest depth of our misery

Please,

Comfort us in our struggle to be free.

Everton Brome

In memory of my father Reginald Albert Brome. May 2006.