Unlocking

These lines were written by someone in prison:

Part of you may live alone inside,
like a tone at the bottom of a well.
But the other part
must be so caught up
in the flurry of the world
that you shiver there inside
when outside, at forty days' distance, a leaf moves.

and so were these:

To think of roses and gardens inside is bad,
to think of seas and mountains is good.
Read and write without rest,
and I also advise weaving
and making mirrors.

Advice from someone who knew all about passing time and being locked up. I'm listening, Nazim; I'm listening, listening. And this freedom tastes sweet in my mouth - to be enjoyed now, tonight even. Free, for example, to stay one step ahead of sleep, to look out and see the moon above the roofs of houses, to add a few more words to this night before the sun comes up. Free to imagine no prisons, ever, concrete ones, yes, but especially those that aren't.