Or is freedom the ability to feel deeply like Whitman out on the front line of suffering?
Maybe freedom is welcoming every tremor, quake and pulse inside.
Maybe it’s the capacity to see beyond the Great Divide.
On the path of yoga, freedom is moksha—recognizing the one unbreakable space that unites us all.
Whether you live in Tallahassee or Texas, Boston or Baton Rouge,
Whether you are old or young, gay or straight, god-fearing or atheist,
To be free is to be born into this spacious realm, infinite in all directions.
Freedom is to know that deep down
You are not confined by anyone or anything,
That underneath all the thoughts and ideas and identities you assume to be you,
You are made from the same stuff as the lightening, the trees and the morning dew.
Freedom is not about color—the black or the white—or the red, white and blue.
What if freedom is the willingness to stay true?
To cut down misogyny, ill-will and hate
Advocating each day  for an open gate.
So that all beings can love freely
And come to see clearly
Through the divide that causes bullets to fly
Through the posts full of distortion and lies.
The truth is hard to tell—hard to tell yourself and others.
But today is the day to draw courage together,
Like Amanda Gorman said on the steps of the capital,
While climbing the hill to get to the pinnacle
To realize a nation that has no borders or walls,
“While we all love freedom, it is love that frees us all.”
