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Lifting the Yoke



My limbs and soul heavy with burdens. Burdens that need to be lifted off my shoulders. But there is fear, because no matter how heavy they are there is comfort in the familiar. My body and soul, crushed under the weight. I lift the yoke as the rain comes. It comes hard and fast, my tears, rain drops and burdens wash away into rivers that etch the earth. Absorbed by the mother and the mist rises to the father. I am light and feel myself float briefly as if there is no gravity, but gravity cannot be defied for very long. Grounded, Terra Firma, my step now lighter on my Fool’s journey. 


D Gushue

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