From the pines
weeping sap, their blood-life:
whole,
from the insects and needles,
the interrelated as life:
existance; the call:
I shall be free.

From the masses,
all lovers and tears,
the dead, the frustrated,
the homeless cold ego-cases
crying out as if night
for an answer,
from all of the brothers and sisters,
the lonely,
an answering call:
I shall be free.

From my hand
as from yours, a reaching
outstretched gesture,
the call:
I shall not be alone.

Thus, from the call,
an answer: liberation,
take my hand,
free.
We survive all together
or not at all.


Poetry

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