Poem-The Bridge
Posted: 28 May 2017 22:55
Poem by Mark Deal
The Bridge
The canopy of starlight combusting through my eyes, thoughts flicker like a flame, my mind flares up, ignites and looking down upon my weathered soul.
You keep your watchful sight on every step i take as I walk the bridge of time.
Deep waters breaking underground gushing up, giving birth to me, makes a way back down to earth, a journey all but free, cascading as it tumbles I hear the voice of fluid motion, like my heart which pumps seconds as I drown in
my emotion.
This river below the bridge I tread stands still as I pass by, my presence, revealed, reflected as I stare into my eyes and a glimpse as of realisation appears, materialised, that love will keep on living long after we've passed.
And ashes only scatter to feed this earth they made, from mighty oaks that keep on growing when abscerice takes their shade, building bridges from beams of light and its strength will always reside in hearts who know forgiveness,
as we stray towards the light.
And the force of fluid motion will begin to shift in vain, rising up from the landscape to replenish what remains, which feeds the thirst for truth, like falling of the rain, pouring life back into life as the belly swells again.
We are what is and nothing more, we gorge in joy and pain, forgetting where we came from like the mind that has no brain. This child within buried deep before our very eyes, will once again cross this bridge out from the golden
light.
Painting by Mark Deal
The Bridge
The canopy of starlight combusting through my eyes, thoughts flicker like a flame, my mind flares up, ignites and looking down upon my weathered soul.
You keep your watchful sight on every step i take as I walk the bridge of time.
Deep waters breaking underground gushing up, giving birth to me, makes a way back down to earth, a journey all but free, cascading as it tumbles I hear the voice of fluid motion, like my heart which pumps seconds as I drown in
my emotion.
This river below the bridge I tread stands still as I pass by, my presence, revealed, reflected as I stare into my eyes and a glimpse as of realisation appears, materialised, that love will keep on living long after we've passed.
And ashes only scatter to feed this earth they made, from mighty oaks that keep on growing when abscerice takes their shade, building bridges from beams of light and its strength will always reside in hearts who know forgiveness,
as we stray towards the light.
And the force of fluid motion will begin to shift in vain, rising up from the landscape to replenish what remains, which feeds the thirst for truth, like falling of the rain, pouring life back into life as the belly swells again.
We are what is and nothing more, we gorge in joy and pain, forgetting where we came from like the mind that has no brain. This child within buried deep before our very eyes, will once again cross this bridge out from the golden
light.
