Bridge

Paused upon a bridge, me, alone,

Pathway from being and the doing zone.

Gentle passing waters, surrounded by woods,

Most accurate place to be, as I should.

Not where I came from,

Not where I'm going.

Here I have freedom,

What is ahead is not for my knowing.

Nothing to chase me,

No pressures I foresee.

Waiting, at my own pace,

The world ahead will make space for me.

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This one is interesting because I felt compelled to write it during a horrible time. I hadn’t written a poem since I was in the 8th grade. I wrote this after yet another burn out phase from working too much and feeling like I wasn’t enough. I was working for people I didn’t get respect, patience, or value from. Yet I did whatever they asked for and struggled to make money. Loyalty is only real when it is mutual. Sometimes we break down, and we want to give up, but for me, it meant I was on a bridge and I could go either direction. Still, you don’t have to get off the bridge just yet. Rest for a moment. That’s where I felt better. And I’m glad I paused and let the world move on without me for a brief time.