Bridge

The harsh squall of time has snapped all the bonds, generations don’t connect anymore, grow as shadeless remote trees in islands, don’t bloom in kinship garden anymore. They are stories set in unlinked chapters, don’t make enjoyable book anymore. I don’t grasp your language of emotion, you care the least to earnestly do mine. If my longing times are for you, yours mine, we can help the drifting generations shorten the distance, come a bit closer, if we try to build a bridge together. You can cross the bridge and reach my lone heart, come to my home of collapsing bare walls, but standing still on foundation of love. I’ll show you picture of my smiling child, walking by my side, holding my firm hand, he doesn’t remember the care it ensured. I can cross the bridge, travel to your times, you’ll proudly show me your bedecked new house, but the windows don’t open to the sky. You’ll show me picture of your little son, standing glum by your side, looking away, not knowing perhaps who you truly are. Let us try to build a bridge together, on it I’ll take nostalgic steps forward, you’ll take nearly forgotten steps backward. I’ll hold your hands with everlasting love, as you’ll hold mine with care and compassion. We’ll get generations linked on the bridge. ______________ March 4, 2023 Word chosen : Bridge Syllable count : 10 per line (HMS) Contest : B-Forms And Words Sponsored by : Sotto Poet