The Bridge

I'm standing under the bridge
Watching evening fall.
There are seagulls overhead:
I listen for their call.
But there is only silence
Stretching all around;
I try to hold my breath, so as
Not to make a sound.

The sky's a muted blue,
The grass is quiet grey;
The bridge, it stands there, silently,
Showing me the way.
I follow for a while,
Futile though it seems;
And when I go to sleep at night
The bridge is in my dreams.

It reaches blackly out
Across the dusky sand,
Feeling through the darkness
Descending on this land,
Stretching ever onward,
Curved towards the sky;
Then back down in the distance
Where other dreamers lie.

One day I'll take this bridge
Towards its secret end:
I'll leave this place behind,
Leave family and friend.
Until that day I'll watch
As others journey on;
Standing under the bridge
That others walk upon.