born a wanderer by virtue of limbs
were it not for lines and letters
I would roam the map unhindered

every creature is more bound than I
oak by root and elk by mind
and even birds keep their aerial paths

culture is cutting lines
cutting space, cutting self
cutting the mental map to size

by cell bound to people
by social bound to country
will enough numbers hold me still?

I yearn for liberty--
freedom without fear--
but daily I am forced to choose.