SIX STRINGS AND STRAIN

SIX STRINGS AND STRAIN
- Sing to my soul. -

The Guitarist strums his hearts sonnet. I don’t ask the reasons of the why, simply

listen to his heart spill his blood of love, sorrow, happiness and denial. The

intentions of his song beats upon my chest, my eyes now not dry. My heart

pounds with the cleft of his times, and I smile to the tears that come. Welcoming

that strain in my breast, I choke happily upon the tension in my throat. I close my

eyes to break off the welling tears that cling upon my lashes. I let them trickle

down my cheek to pool upon my quivering chin. I leave them free to flow and

roam, spill and splash where they may. They deserve that much I proclaim. I wear

them proud, unconcerned of judgement and ridicule.

I sink ever deeper into the soothing tail of the rifts and bleed my heart freely along

to the tapping of my foot. The pulse of the drums keeps the pace as the guitar

sways my regrets from my mind. The overwhelming womb of sound, pounds upon

my breaking heart to open me vulnerable. Six strings pulling at my soul, ripped

wide open and beat by a strum of another man’s collected rhyme. This is my

repent in another’s words. Lost in a consuming twang, tip, tap, pull, slide then

paused for eternity in a break to a solo. I open my eyes to a blur of faces looking

back at me from the past. Free falling tears now for the gratitude and contentment.

Smiling thankfully, and cut to the beat of my new found freedom. Peace fills my

heart, sowing my soul with glee. I didn’t ask the reasons of the why! Simply

thanked him through my heart, for the six strings and the strain.

Stacy A.J. Knight.
Feb 24th 2005.