The book I’m reading
tells the tale of a runaway slave –
powerful in her faith,
stealthy in her need for freedom.
She moves in the shadows of the night
and accepts help from strangers
along the way.
Her instincts guide her
and she follows without question.
The star-filled sky
grants her eyes delight.
Strangely,
I’ve found myself
envying her –
and why ever not?
She is free
even before she reaches
freedom.