Untouched but not Unfelt

Spent years like a husk
now life is kindling again,
purifying from pain
and pleasantly plentiful 
at present. 

The cage of the State 

is nothing, 

for I traversed the labyrinth of my own mind
and survived.

So I shall recognise shackles
as a concept,
but be mindful of surrendering control. 

Isolate from crowds but not from feelings,
not from understanding, communion
and empathy...
their cups can be plentiful 
for the jug is poured by our own hand. 

Our hands are tied by distancing 
but a forest’s beauty is in being untouched, 
and if you’ve looked in the eyes of a 
pet, loved one or beckoning horizon
you will know that souls touch 
without hands.