Crossing the Bridge

The shadows of the evening are slowly drifting by like ghosts that haunt a foreign land beneath the starlit sky. With images of past and of the future yet to come_ the heart is beating faster while the soul is on the run. Caught up in the headlights the portrait of my essence_ freefalling like a feather to the earth. My life sleeps like a dreamer in the corners of creation. With love, the true foundation, that will cradle me from birth. Now it seems that words become so hesitant to greet me. Blown into my senses like the winds against my pain. Holding close, The memories etched inside, that never leave me_ kindred to the spirit, deep and cold as winter rain. My eyes can’t turn away but just remain there hypnotized_ to a world that spins around me with designs of inspiration. Crossing over graveyards the bridge of life is burning_ leaving behind the fruits of memory that has reached its expiration. Still as a lifeless corpse my image falters. The likeness of a past I reminisce. A flash before my eyes, I face the alter. The life, before I died, I never lived. No friends to leave behind to feel my sorrow. No time to heal the wounds of yesterday. No promise there will be a new tomorrow, to change the way I feel inside today. The Peace who stilled the oceans for a moment_ left His footprints on the bridge for us to seek. With the words that spoke of truth and pure atonement. And the tears that fell for hearts He could not reach. Michael 11/20/2015 Michael Mtspoet's photo.