Bridges

I walk along the rivers
Which sources lie between
The pale white clouds in the sky
Which ends anywhere
Its tail a snaking wisp of smoke

I want to cross
The rickety wooden bridge
To the other side,
An uncharted mysterious terrain where
Strangeness is subjective.

January, and with it comes new courage,
New light,
New heart.
I finally cross it.
The raging rapids conquered
Connections, bold
And strong.

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