The Mossy Bridge

The Mossy Bridge

There’s a mossy bridge at the end of trail

My heart and soul know it quite well

It’s a quiet retreat to rest and think

Where turtles sun and then slowly sink

If pressures need to be eased a smidge

I walk on down to the mossy bridge

The old bridge has been carved by lovers and time

A hideaway from life’s robbers of the mind

A serene haven to catch your breath

A place to mourn while grieving a death

I’ve traveled out often over this old ridge

To bide my time on this old mossy bridge

A bass hits the water interrupting my train of thought

Like a fierce warrior that escaped, when once he was caught

A hawk soars overhead, peering through the peace for a suitable meal

I take it all in letting the balm of nature heal

To break the silence would be pure sacrilege

And to dishonor the wisdom of the mossy bridge