For Freedom

A feather was twirling
over a blanket of snow.
I looked all around,
as winds started to blow.

Then I spotted more feathers
also wings of a bird,
the snow was stained red,
but not a sound was heard.

The body of Freedom,
our wild pigeon leigh there!
It was hunted down,
all that seemed not fair.

As I gathered his feathers
and the last of it's remain,
then it started to snow,
but I wished it were rain.

To wash away the hurt
and the blood and stain,
that from now until spring
will freeze and remain.

For now, all is covered
with a blanket of snow,
as Freedom has gone,
but it's spirit won't go.

though wild and free
this bird will always be,
above in the heaven's...
till all eternity!



Written by
Hartmut Reinsch ©
11. 03 1993
Toronto / CANADA