“ We knock upon silence for an answering music. ”
Around, around the sun we go:The moon goes round the earth.We do not die of death:We die of vertigo.
~ Archibald Macleish
And here face down beneath the sunAnd here upon earth's noonward heightTo feel the always coming onThe always rising of the night
A poem should not meanBut be.
What is freedom? Freedom is the right to choose: the right to create for oneself the alternatives of choice. Without the possibility of choice a man is not a man but a member, an instrument, a thing.
