The ocean’s white foam caresses me,
carries me into the weeping horizon.
As my borealis eyes become the sea,
I sadden. It is freedom’s intention 
to devour my body without contention. 
I revolt. I grow enriched in seaweed.
I twirl. The weight of my rebellion 
explodes as I can only carry what I need. 

I can now trace the limits of the sea.
Still submerged, the superficial tension
of my memories knows how to pull me
toward the surface. I longed for the sensation 
that takes me to the verge of my imagination
where I lift my mind from the veil of greed. 
It is the beginning of the realization 
that I should only carry what I need. 

My voice now extends beyond the sea. 
I sing through the wind’s voice. The oscillation
between the water and the air creates me 
a new body. I wish to be the foundation 
of a tree whose knowledge frees a generation 
from the blindness and ignorance of greed. 
Transmuted into seed, I grow an inner tension 
one that says I can only carry what I need.  

As my outer shell breaks in an exhalation, 
I realize it is not about what I succeed 
to have, but who I am through the realization
that I should only carry what I need. 
The weight of what we carry continually wears us down until the day we have to leave it all behind. Freedom wins at the end, but it is our choice to determine how we let it win. Does it win without realizing why it wins? Does it win while being wrapped in ignorance and greed? Or are we free prior it desires to devour us? If we are already free, what is there for freedom to devour?
Signature Lina Ru