Strands

I am tethered to the earth by knots that bind me. They make sure I can’t go far.
I know these ropes. I know the strands by name. I call out to them.

I cannot reach high above my head. I cannot even block the sun from my eyes.
I can only grab the dirt at my feet. I can only let it slip between my hands.

Oh to be free.

How would it sound?

Oh to be free.

To travel far from this patch of ground.

I can dream from where I am. I dream about the hill on the horizon.
I imagine leaping off into where I cannot see. I imagine falling into the void.

I wonder who can free me from my shackles. I want to call their name into the air.
What would I do to thank them? I hope my life can stand as testament.

Oh to be set free.

Is it you who understands?

Oh to be set free.

You who’ll separate my knotted strands.

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