Even though I am not free
there are things that I love
in this world, this mansion, palace
this strange home where I live
even though it doesn’t always feel exactly
like living
or home
I love to sit in the central courtyard
looking up at a ceiling of sky
looking around at the fragrant garden
of jasmine and tuberose
looking down at mosaics on the floor
chips of tile swirled into stories
of kings and castles
jungles and beasts
I love the singing fountain, ripening fruit trees
a view of high balconies dancing in wind
the rhythm of archways and columns
railings of wrought iron in the shapes
of black metal peacocks
and angels playing harps
I like to think that the angels are real
the music mine
I roam the vast rooms
filled with paintings and statues
I dance in the ballroom when no one is looking
I try out the musical instruments
I sit in the rocking chairs, swaying
to my own secret song
a silent moment
of peace