Shackles

Pregnant pain gave birth to addiction
Swollen up and swallowed up by herself
Need put iron shackles on her feet
Braded brass pins with hopeless hammers

Outside the stone cell, freedom danced in flowers
But the walls seeped lonely ache from within
A squirrel hiding acorns dug between the cracks
And buried a treasure in long forgotten soil

Little light fell through the bars; broken on the floor;
The ashamed sun came but for a few moments
But roots sunk lower to find rain beneath the stones
Then, like all things green, a living stem rose secretly

Photosynthesis showed baby pictures of life
And the pain longed to be pregnant again
She built a cradle of hope with nothing to fill it
And then mourned her abortion of love

Silent rage burned away inside the stones
Melting them like wax and winter snow
In the hope of different, the same was abandoned
The shackles of addiction were broken

She could barely crawl but soon could walk
Blinded by sun; the confusion too much to bear
But she remembered the cradle and brought it out
It came with a whimper and a tear

Flowers were blooming again that year
She filled the bassinet like a basket with petals
And the colors joined to take wing as butterflies
Freedom flittered and danced and she followed

When freedom was full, she gave birth to joy
Swollen up and bursting with her baby boy
Forgiveness put booties on his feet
And baby lamb’s wool lulled him to sleep

Prison melted into the past; in its place, a tree
The seed had come to fruition at last
The limbs stretched forth to grasp the sun
And on each branch hung golden poetry