We tend to wrap ourselves up in tight ropes that constrict us, from birth to death. Cutting chords that are strangling us, is something we absolutely must demand from ourselves lest we drown in our own circumstances.
Cutting a chord wrapped 'round our throats
The invisible hand likes to tighten.
It's not serving us to leave it stay
Where the sparks of creation enlightens.
We take on the baggage of that not to serve
But to bog us down deeper into darkness
Of our own hands we forge deeper still
And enable the lesson as they manifest.
Unwittingly or no, we hold ourselves back
And refuse to see our light in true glory
Where others' words make our days
And effect the turns and plots of our stories.
Then we take a step back and grab the dagger of truth
No blade could be any sharper or quick
We cut that which does not serve us and our journey
We cut off the dead, the weak and the sick.
Remember in order to live in full bounty
Sacrifice and pruning must come
There is no other to lead and no other to guide
As you make your way in the light of the Sun.
It is the simplest, most intricate events in this life that cultivate slowly to make the greatest things happen. These small weavings through time are a treasures we often overlook. Walk each moment in a way that leaves you whole and not wanting. Not always the way it goes but surely the way most rewarding, most memorable and most pleasing when hindsight sits at your feet, beckoning you to understand the lesson.
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