An ode to a bridge

First, there was a bridge.

It was a bridge from childhood dreams and wishes.

I think I prayed for it.

I saw it in my mind's eye.

A bridge to connect and not a wall - that was clear.

I was certain I wanted that.

the bridge that connects the bedroom to the kitchen

there was only Jasmin at first

I wanted a bridge that would tell a story

and indeed, it does not only tell a story

It sings!

It sings of its beginnings

and of the people who walk on it-

of  family and friends

of kindred spirits.

It sings in celebration of a beautiful life,

the babies that were born one after another

and the joy they bring.

It sings with the birds and the ferns that caress it.

This bridge fulfills its being.

It welcomes our footsteps in the morning

and witnesses the last of the evening.

then Jacob, our first grandson was born

years after, it is now adorned with ferns that naturally screen the sun

and is happy with  Jose, our second grandson and
charmed by beautiful Soleil.

here is where we all love to flock.

It patiently waits for those we both miss

and would be first to welcome the return of those who left.

It has heard O so many stories

and is amused by the fluctuating moods

of its inhabitants.

sympathetic and a great listener

this bridge records the history of our lives.