Cords

Too many connections

become baggage

weighing down the soul

until

it becomes necessary to

purge the excess.

My iron will

forges iron blades

to wield upon a tangled mess.

Surveying the land

finding what does not serve

Pruning down to blood and tears.

Snipping ties to my heart.

The scattered cords

rippling loose in the breeze

return to rest

or be reborn elsewhere.

But

my lightened heart

is all the better for it.