heartstrings

these strings are tied to the pearly moon
taut and limp with the pull of the sea
humming out a thread of jazz bass in the winter deep
or funky folk on a cigar box guitar 
maybe singing the long, sweet notes of summer

these strings they reach to the wind
flying along with the birds and the clouds
sweeping around this globe of colors
wet with rain or frozen with dizzy heights
or sailing amidst the whispered prayers persistently rising

these strings are still attached
though seemingly broken again and again 
deliberately snipped or frayed to bare spindles with tension
somehow and always tied securely underneath
the heavy load of lonely emptiness

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