This wet day flashes cross my mind the beauty of the bridge.
It calls me to discover what is hidden 'yon the ridge.
Concrete cold beneath my feet is hard and brittle, broken.
Yet somehow if I think beyond, I see the hope unspoken.
Atop the crest, I view a racing highway 'neath my feet,
and trace its path horizonward, my heart begins to beat.
It calls me to step off and soar the journey like a dove.
Get off this concrete bridge and see the world from up above.
The wind and traffic wildly toss my hair across my face.
I've studied this horizon till my heart begins to race.
I know the place and time, the perfect angle to the sky,
when all the keys unlock my feet to take to flight and fly.
You see a broken bridge, on the outside cracked and broken,
but beyond the concrete surface is a beauty yet unspoken.
part 2 - sept 7
i see the traffic fast below
and know that this is not the bridge
there can be no one else around
no other life beneath the ridge
the details now, they bother me
too many things that don't belong
my heart sinks lower with my reason
seeing clearly, this is wrong
knowing how and when and where
do not make me search the sky
but knowing these - equip my feet
upon an impulse think they fly
there are no bridges i can find
that truly hold the answer
i wish another heart could know
the pain that is this cancer
and seek to find the battle scars
and paint them lovely tender
my fragile spirit longs for sleep
and hope is growing slender
all is well yet not at all
safe - yet screaming danger
my tiny soul upon a bridge
confused and lonely stranger