Old Faces

i saw
some of
the old faces tonight.
the faces that spoke
the words
that turned the tides
and that kept
the candle
of freedom lit.
for free-dome
is what most
really seek…
a breath of air,
a ray of sun
an unfettered thought
to the good.
the ability to walk
in the world
without fear
or shame;
un-hidden.
I still feel the fire
even after so long–
it is a cold flame
it does not warm
my aging bones.
it freezes
as well as scorches.
because time itself
has been juxtaposed
throughout
the decades
that we
have trod.
yet none of us
are ready for finality.
we live
and will not die.
our children’s children
speak our names;
our students remember
our lessons.
our words gleam
from dried yellow pages,
and books without covers
that never close,
they course the realms
of cyberspace.
our story is unending
our footprints lead
like a blue note
from Wayne Shorter’s
saxophone
like a piano chord
from ‘Maiden Voyage’
like a star
from
the
Creator’s sky.

3/3/18

Linda Tauhid

3/3/18

 

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