The Bridge

I stood leaning, frightened over a deep abyss,

on a plateau with a bridge I could not see,

I had only black in front of me,

and my breath,

and the thoughts inside my head.

I knew there was that bridge,

and I thought to step out beyond myself,

to brave the dark,

and I wished I did not have to,

but to turn back was no option now.

And I wished harder,

but there were no stars to grant me this,

no God to hear my prayers,

no other to push me in the right direction,

only myself to do my bidding.

And I was frightened,

and I thought about standing still.

And I stood.

And I waited.

But in my waiting I heard distant voices,

and creaks of bridges being crossed.

I was angry that I had not crossed mine own,

that I had not had the courage to leap,

and I stood still.

My courage come from within,

and quit my prayers and wishes,

and in my leap let me fall,

for my bridge was halfway down,

apart from the others.

And when my bruises heal,

let me be stronger than before,

let me know how to fall upwards,

and face bridges as they come.