Bridge

The bridge between our hearts as fine as spiderweb threads Along it soldiers march workers trample, children skip with balls of light cows graze, horses gallop Between our hearts the bridge is held by the Tree of Life sung over by rain its roots tangled in the molten centre of Mother Earth Below it gurgles River of Intentions on the banks rural maidens with feathers in their plaits play reed flutes lilies grow in its crevices whilst dragonflies sweetly hum African mothers sing rhymes whilst suckling fat babies spiders delicately continue to weave below trodden cobbles I longingly listen for the trample of your brown leather boots on the other side of the bridge ! GhairoDanielsPoetry2018