I wrote this about five years ago, and yesterday re-found it whilst clearing through my old notebooks to see what to take with me to the States. I used to write a lot of this sort of thing.
Redemption is the story of loss becoming gain;
Of slavery bought back;
Of liberty returned.
It is the dawn after a nightmare,
The postern door in an impenetrable wall,
The feast after the famine.
We have been crawling and are learning to walk.
We have been drowning and are learning to swim.
We have been given clothes but do not yet know
How to put them on.
My eyelids flutter;
Wanting at last to open,
Wanting at last to see,
Yet unaccustomed to anything save darkness.
My fingertips reach out to touch and to hold,
But my muscles are weak,
Unused,
Flimsy.
I cannot yet pluck a flower.
The new, fresh fragrances of spring are all around,
But my nose is blocked.
I cannot yet taste the festive spread I am being fed.
But redemption says I will.
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