Sonnets on Freedom

“It is for freedom that Christ set us free”
In cells or yoked oxen obligated
Pain avoided or pleasure satiated
A ring in Mannaseh’s nose, bended knee,
This creature set in his walked course, not me
No, who am I? Not this thing, which I am
All held in will’s exerted, swollen dam
Broke, and raging for moments I can’t be.
Free to walk where pain is, free to see
And be seen, free to hope for pleasure pulled
By my hand, free to know a will annulled,
And river water’s power an oak tree,
Channel what could only harm, covenant
Anew with him who love’s power has sent.

“We are Abraham’s children, and therefore
We have never been slaves of anyone!”
Never slaves, for we took and gave back none,
We took, not thinking of the taking nor
Of what we took, simply grasping e’er more
What slavery is it to take? Must not
Slavery give? We saw it take and rot
All time and want, this waste should abhor.
The poet Traherne knew what want was for
These wants are bands which attach us, cement,
Our want is our treasure and all God sent
He sent through the path ordained and these four:
Wanter, wanted, will, desire, our core
Hidden slavery, when one lost before.

“You are enslaved to that which you obey,”
Self-image crowns man, dispensing each part
Flattered in false control, masked empty heart
Folly’s fool is he who seized that old day,
And laughed in discipline, his face like May!
Like Archimedes’ crown, his inside fake,
Iron-mixed gold, shine but will never take,
And offered always, never could but stray
I own myself, says owned man to the grave,
Then why’re you here? replies, I cannot save.
I came here myself, he believes, but nay,
You would not choose this! He can only pray,
That though wasted change can come to the grey.

Part one, “Conscience must rise above the rule,
and seek no more his righteousness in it”
For if found there e’en small, only one bit,
Then the suff’ring servant is but a fool.
Part two, “Freed as pupils from a harsh school,
The soul obeys in voluntary service.”
The servant becomes son and observe this:
Reins for a stallion, not whip for a mule.
Part three, “Uncleanness once a master cruel,
No neutral thing binds, omit or use her!”
Cowered once before mere things, like some cur,
Now all that’s made is clean, his renewal.
Here is freedom’s stable three-legged stool,
Stand upon it, protect her as life’s jewel.