Waiting
They stand and wait.
Those who had gone before,
At the bridge of whatever,
Where whenever goes.
Many colours many kinds,
All have the same label.
The befores waiting
for the afters.
The bridge is of many a hue,
Worn with the passing through
the trampling, of those ready.
followed by the dragging back, of the undecided,
The masters call, a pull, a tug.
Where is this bridge?
In the hereafter,
Yet they wait,
wait for that one being.
They are all there
at Rainbows Bridge.
Alert
waiting,
waiting,
waiting.
For their master.
O
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2014
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