Saturday, July 5, 2008

BRIDGE ON THE RIVER DEAD

I stood on the bridge over the dead river
Time stayed in the present as I looked
At past and future on either side
No stream up or down,
The past had merged with eternity
The last drop reaching its destination
Losing its identity like the salt doll in a sea
To be reborn in future in to another stream

Much water had flown under
Each grain of sand had stories to tell
About seeped- in suns and moons
And the fishy romantic exploits
Of Aqua brushing and caressing
Transporting it to places new and exciting
Safe and secure in the coolness of being

The sun reflected in the vast sandy emptiness
As a lone dog ran across to no where
The desiccation below made me thirsty
With a lump in my throat, lost and desolate
Leaving the redundancy of the bridge to itself
I over passed the fissure of my parched mind
To the buoyancy of a pond near by.
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