Honesty

The Bridge

6/18/2018

I'm standing in the middle of the Island

I grew up on.

It's hot and rocky:

and the sun's too bright,

but it feels like home.

Beneath me are raging waters

of the unfamiliar ocean;

tempting and trying-

I'm only a kiss away from death.

But the waves are held down by a thousand bridges

(though some only see one or two). 

You take the one you choose. 

Down one I see a tree, 

or at least the figure of what could be one.

Down another I see a city,

or at least the bricks that could build one.

They're much too far to see the whole picture,

and I admit that I'm much too afraid to try. 

Still a hesitating foot steps down a creaky slope

hoping it's the one that leads towards life. 

But fear and doubt plague the soul and the eyes

that miss that piece of wood that is weak. 

The life that was within now sinks down into the ocean

where it forgets how to breathe.

Did I know what I wanted after all? 

"The purposes of a person's heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out." -Proverbs 20:5

Fun Fact: this poem is based off a dream I had one night where I was on an island full of people surrounded by bridges. When one person tried to cross they fell in. I chased after them. I was the only one brave enough I assume, and it seemed to be someone I really cared about. I don't remember for sure how it ended, but I like to believe that I pulled her out.