Prisoner's Meditation

[kilroy]

I feel the limits with my fingers:
the chains of circumstance
that bind me to these walls,
this life.

They are unyielding, bitter, solid--
and I seem made of salt tears
in this cold place.

But if I am tears then I am water,
and water knows
that there is never one way, one shape;
water always finds a way.

No one will release me from this cage.
But cages are built to hold the strong,
and I am only water.

I fit my finger to the keyhole,
let myself turn,
and I am free.