When I was young I heard it in the songs of Bob Dylan –
his voice and guitar
had the power to destroy the gray walls of authorities,
the walls that were meant to encapsulate my soul.
I saw it in the films and read between the lines –
of the books that were written
by many recalcitrant minds; they passed to me
this twig of rebellion from past generations.
I heard it in the cries of newly-born babies –
sucking ferociously their milk,
they gazed upon this world with an equal look,
they demanded what was assigned to them.
I heard it in the laughs of young boys and girls –
yearning for the impossible,
they had a special taste for adventure,
they were the captains of their fate.
I heard it in the clashes of revolutions and mutinies –
new and old alike;
they smashed the rotten order,
and hailed a new dawn.
But most of all, I heard it in the heave of the sea –
in the sound of hissing waves,
as they kept rolling and rolling, and rolling,
unaware of Man’s presence.