He who would know freedom
must be ready for the fall,
ready to be untethered.
Freedom is not
floating on a cloud;
it's riding the rapids down,
trying to get one's feet first,
so that one breaks a leg --
and not a skull --
on the rocks.
It was a moment
of silent spaciousness.
In the midst of a fight,
there was no enemy --
just the effortless
dance of the thing.
That moment
expanded to the infinite,
& snapped back
to one tick after the tock.
Since then,
no catastrophe has felt
too great for a smile.