Planning on crossing over
where footprints of night
are ne'er seen...
There fish are spawning
in clear blue stream ~
Surrounded by verdant green;
Nature begins speaking to me.
An antiquated chine-wood bridge
gracefully arches it back
with sturdy braids makes a path ~
That I may cross to a place serene
Where nightingales and crickets sing
It's a place where I do my thinking
Unafraid to shed my skin ~
by dusk as honey bear I may roam,
by dawn take flight as an eagle
I may be found soaring toward home.
Upon opening mine eyes
I come to realize the colors of the skies
Yes, I've crossed that bridge before