The Footbridge

At the footbridge of time... It lies just ahead, the path worn and clear. How many others found their way walking here? Oak and maple to the left, leaf covered river stones on the right and in between, the well traveled path clear in sight. So many times in the past, I parked the car hiked up the cliff then found the path aligned with the north star. Getting a foothold here and another there your hand in mine as we stepped into the clear. Straight away we walked together, crushed the leaves where we stood with a crunch now and then of dry, broken potential firewood. The hill stretched up and at the top we could finally see pathways to the footbridge just below the trees. We hardly spoke but silently we knew choosing to take the steps forward without a clue This path and the footbridge standing solidly in place helps looking back with not one step to be erased. Like the wood used to build it lay the stepping stones to another place across the wide expanse still unknown. Yes, been there once, five times maybe more yet each new venture opens brand new doors. This time, I walk alone with memory in heart let me begin again with another start. Step quick, step slow contemplating when to go across the footbridge of the past to the present future is all i ask.