A Bridge

We are building a bridge you and I,

To carry the traffic of our souls.

The question is what kind of bridge,

To span the gaping chasm down below.

Will it be a bridge of rope,

Resilient, but sometimes neglected,

A kind word, a gentle tug

And then it’s back again,

Just as we left it?

Or will it be a bridge of light,

Traced out by a flaming arrow

As it arches through the midnight sky,

Bringing tiny sparks to each caress,

And a melting fire to each other's eyes?

Or will it be a bridge of rock,

With deep foundations carved in stone,

A storehouse for our secret thoughts,

A final shelter, welcoming us home?

© 1999 Gavin Miller. All rights reserved.