When Bridges must be Crossed

This bridge was shrouded by fog 
And ancient electric sparks 
Floating overhead like fireflies 

This bridge was swaying violently 
Entrapped within a jetting breeze 
Wood stepping panels rumbling 
Hand gripping ropes tearing 

This bridge hung over a smoky silver abyss 
Which hid a crystal clear blue lagoon 
Where sea scented mermaids circled empty treasure chests 
Dressed in the abandoned sails of sunken ships 
Floating amid the drowning shadows 
Of sword wielding buccaneers 
Still consulting useless maps for a direction home 

This bridge lay beneath a growling grey sky 
Overcast clouds permanently lightening scarred 
Empty air paths traversed by transcendent tourists 
Telling legendary tales of sun splashed horizons 
Existing just beyond the most incredulous comprehension 
Of an open and receptive imagination 
These were winged adventurers floating in packs 
Passionate thinkers attempting to defy outer walls 
While neglecting an inner-strife 
Unfurling creative diversions 
Interrupted by occasional pockets of hard rain 

This bridge lay in front of a human 
A man slight in stature 
Posture lowered by slumping shoulders 
Face buried into the buttoned collar of 
A black raincoat being pelted unmercifully 
By chunk blocks of hail due to a storm 
Beginning once the gravity-defying poets passed through 
And oxygen independent mermaids slunk into their seashells 
For their daily hours of peaceful sleep 

No, this human could not fly 
Could not breathe underwater 
Did not possess a special power 
Or particularly impressive intellectual prowess 
His natural beauty could be beaten merciless 
By the wild conditions of his temporary existence 

The man knew of eternity 
But was not sure if he believed 
The man knew of inevitability 
But was unconcerned with its personal application 
He simply had a bridge to cross 
A path to tread 
A burden to haul 

Here was a postman 
Two folded cards in his pocket 
One expressing love 
The other forgiveness 
His boss had been understanding but stern 
The notes were urgent 
Their delivery absolutely essential 
So as the man took stock 
Feeling the vicious wind 
The wicked hail 
Watching the rickety structure swinging 
Terror clawed at his guts 
The skeletal finger of doubt tapped his spine 
His heart beating furious 
Where were the poets with advice? 
Long gone distracted by paradise 
Where were the mermaids to provide calming beauty? 
Resting and not to be disturbed by fear 

The man was alone 
In this moment 
His mission painfully plainly 
Clear 

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About mw2828

I am a writer currently working out of the New York area. https://mythandmist.wordpress.com/ View all posts by mw2828

2 responses to “When Bridges must be Crossed

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