Don’t Build Fences, Brother
Chains once bound my feet,
handcuffs clasped my wrists—
but now all that is gone;
I’ve lost it all,
my mind set adrift.
Unbound and wild was my will,
the wind itself a fierce escape—
no more anchors,
no touchstone left,
and yet, no fear remains.
“Rowdy boy,” they all said—
Mother scolded with a flick to the ear,
and friends, laughing at my mischief,
only shouted, “Run, run away!”
One soil—
then why the fences, brother?
Why the borders marked with barbed wire?
The waters, the forests are one—
perhaps the sunlight itself
has grown proud.
Don’t build fences, brother—
under the moonlight,
this side and that side are the same.
The breeze, meek and uncertain,
doesn’t know—
perhaps it’s the earth itself
that’s pure,
and death its only vow.
