July 28, 1997
This poem speaks to us about freedom, about a person's soul, and listening to our inner voice.
My hair blows in the wind moving with time, blowing free as can be.
My soul speaks to me, saying there is more to life than what you see.
Just like there's more to the wind than its gentle caress.
What is that voice from " within" saying?
Coming through ever so faintly, barely a whisper.
Travelling in my vision to events that pass my understanding.
What was that voice from within saying?
No disrespect, I have come to show little knowledge I possess, in my way I pass, standing troubled, insecure in my way.
Walking this road trouble clouding my head.
Exploited weakness the evil one stalks my soul, underminer of the truth, seeking entry through the doorway of doubt.
The wind blows my hair, caressing voice, bringer of the vision!
Intense is the battle, day and night, through all eternity.
[Published with permission, this poem is from the stories, poetry and visual art by the students of the school at Stony Mountain Correctional Institute, Stony Mountain, Manitoba, Spirit Within Our Dreams, p.42.]