I saw bridges burn when last I turned,
when last I left what once was home
where as a child I walked in dreams
as now I drove and told myself
sweet lies that this was only what it
seemed, just a trip, and not goodbye.
Decades passed and new dreams dreamt,
I found new bridges that I crossed
hoping they would lead to somewhere else
where rain was gentle and rainbows ruled;
but flesh sagged under the weight of time
and the mirror told a truth that's cruel:
what once seemed bold was now banal
and the youth that fled was old.
I wonder now, too tired to roam,
as blisters on these feet have torn;
the patience of my existence warns:
time to rest, to go back home,
to cross one final bridge at last
beyond my future or my past,
to let my Soul return from whence it came
past the horizon, past the Moon
where the Milky Way is but a road
that leads to its eternal home.
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