Bridge

Gentle it lies across the space between us. Across waters raging or calm, it does not matter; there it is. Whether a link between father and son, or mother and daughter, you decide. It connects the left to the right, north to the south or east to west.

Sometimes there is no water between us, whether raging or otherwise. That is when I cannot understand why we are separated. The earth between us is but flat ground. I could walk across and touch you.

But alas I cannot, or will not.

What separates us is greater than water. We are separated by ideas; thoughts and such things that create emotions that cause actions. Actions we are sometimes, proud of. But I must admit there are other actions that we are not proud of.

Yes we need bridges to lie gentle across the way. Gentle because the turmoil that the bridge is connecting, cannot be well served if the bridge gets involved.

I know we fought each other for a while, but now the space created is larger than the reason for the fight. Oh what are we doing? I stare across the open wound that time has not yet healed. I am wishing for better, but also hoping for the best.

Oh Bridge, please carry the weight of both of us as we meet in the middle.

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About Ken Gwira

Ken Gwira is a self-taught artist living in the USA. Aside from wood sculpture, he uses words and images to help people see life through a different lens [o].
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