Lifted

Granular, the straps of the packs of too many burdens
Chafe at shoulders and neck. The
Half-hearted breaths steam out and burn on the wind.
The curling of the autumn chill under the
Downturned chin. This heart has learned
To distrust.

When heaving sighs and crippled beneath a
Mountain of yesterdays -
Breaking, breaking, breaking -
The twine of the straps groaning as
They're pulled apart. Gravity yanks the weights
To the ground - because they belong to the earth.

My heart, my head are lifted;
In praise like birdsong,
I rise from the dirt.
I am Zion singing.

Written by Samantha Lindholm
February 13, 2014

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For no weary busy-ness or burden of expectation can tether my soul to this earth. My heart is heaven-born, and there 'twill fly when the songs remind me of my birthright.