A bridge with a lift
Spanned across the great divide,
I have seen such wondrous things,
Lovers from either side,
kissing beneath my hallowed cloisters,
in the moonlit night,
melting in the dim gaslight.
They come to meet in the midst of me,
embracing in a détente of mutual ecstasy.
Forbidden loves from either shore,
meet upon this 'no mans land',
to whisper sweetly, and confide,
of eternal unions that never hide.
To them, i am the sweet destination,
the point of no return,
the endless longing,
through days of heartfelt yearnings,
an abode of secrets, sweet sensual kisses,
For this alone, all else seems sufferable.
yet it is never for long,
they turn, one way, or the other,
always to depart again,
sometimes in tears,
sometimes in song,
a transitory destination all along.
I have seen those same lovers,
on lonely winter nights,
walk upon me in treachery,
broken hearted and alone,
to cast themselves into a void, blind,
unable, unwilling to take sides,
a leap of faith denied.
Those final bitter tears,
shed upon me in streams of wasted years,
loves that never came to greet them,
or those that did, and died.
In those moments, i too have wept,
yet always the dawns rise,
and a thousand scattered footsteps,
tap the beat out on my heart,
never an end, never a start.
In the quiet of that night,
I too have dreamt,
dreamt of being a destination,
the final point of a journey,
the reason for travails and yearnings,
but i am just a bridge,
a transit point for an aeon's dreams,
a crossing from a this to a that,
and once crossed, no one ever looks back.
How lonely it can be,
caught within the footsteps of eternity,
a million footsteps trudging endlessly,
across my walkway.
Always going, never coming,
from this to that,
the endless transition,
never to be the final destination,
but for the broken or the smitten.
'Hey you!...yes, you!, who talk of loneliness,
from your lateral point of view.
I have watched you from on high,
from empty, endless, cloudless skies,
and seen the march of a million feet,
cross those waters to a timeless beat.
All the while you stood proud,
stout, within the seasons cyclic shroud.
I, however, who rise and fall, so slowly,
catch but a glimpse between these walls,
marking out each final destination,
from my vertical inclination.
At times I descend into a pit of despair,
and waiting, find not a soul for me there.
No one to wait for me,
up and down, endlessly.
I rise when i am summoned,
and fall at every beckoned call,
some rise in hope, others fall with none,
yet, better a slow decline, from a high place,
than such a quick descent,
a fatal fall from grace.
Many summon me,
press my buttons,
sometimes one at a time,
but still i must heed that call.
Crammed into tiny spaces,
silent feet, smiling faces,
sweaty summer days,
the creak of winters night,
always the moving place,
never the home,
never the boudoir of delight.
Yet, I do not cry,
or yearn to be another,
for we are precious you see,
we allow each soul a choice,
where none before were free.
They come from here to there,
they move from this to that,
but without you and i,
they are stuck, one dimensional, flat.
Maybe, only you could understand me,
maybe, it is only I,
that could comprehend your solemn cry.
Many times i have stood idle,
watching you, from my vertical point of view,
wondering what it might be like,
to have the gift and pure delight,
of doors that never shut,
open paths that lead to somewhere,
to never have to move,
yet, always have movement upon you.
We are opposites in action you see,
but not so very different in purpose,
you, and me'.
'Yes, i see you now, standing so tall,
but i have seen you fall too, slowly.
You have born them all,
with such grace.
Hopeful souls crammed into your tiny space.
These words of comfort you have spoken,
ease my soul, shine with a divine purpose,
a wisdom, a blessed token.
I know now i am not alone,
no longer a solemn bridge of pointless design.
A reach from nothing to nowhere.
For this gift you have given,
i could not find on my own,
the perspective to know we are not alone.
You have shown me, that which i could not see,
the very wonder and purpose of our true divinity'.
'And you, my complimentary admirer,
have given me such sights, as wonders do allow.
Visions of the great and the terrible,
traversing your great arch, in timeless hoards.
Only you could know what it is to be that which i am,
only you who stands strong across there to here,
with no sudden movement, no fear,
could ever understand what it is to ferry man,
forever, never, to be his point of rest,
an endless movement, in his ceaseless quest'.
'What goes up, must come down,
but better a slow fall to the ground,
what is left, travels right,
and back again, every night.
I wonder whether you and I,
who, here and there, up and down,
ferry all, round and round,
might meet together on the ground'?
'A bridge with a lift!
what a peculiar notion,
yet this heart has a mind,
of emotive devotion.'
'A bridge with a lift,
do you think it could be?
where once there were two,
© Richard Michael Parker 2011