Faith, A Rope, A Knife

in the beginning, i followed a single chord into the earth.

birth, at times, is death

i scaled ropes, earthen anchors

tied to those who would be tied together.

you need a knife, a divine edge

for cutting ties, cutting halves into smaller halves,

lesser selves, big chunks of soul

falling down crevices to places unknown, far away

from He who fashioned the blade. we seek freedom

in the roots of others, but we must

cut back; travel light.

carving the rot from our flesh

makes us born into new life; the beginning

of a rope, a thread, a strand