Monday, April 13, 2009


Sometimes we can be on a bridge travelling to a new land and not know it.

So it seems to me: I am crossing a short wooden path bridge to a small island (that may be connected to more lands and probably is). I didn't know I was on this bridge, maybe because I was busy looking back, who knows?

Now that I look, the land behind is large and filled with turmoil, mounds of clay, towering buildings with shattered glass...much of the glass shattered by me. The water below is calm, and the island before me has pink hibiscus and green foliage. Too bad I don't know my trees, or I'd tell you what they are.

Now I see I am crossing to some new order. Let it be wisdom.

The girl scouts have a phrase for transitioning into the new order: bridging, and there used to be a ceremony symbolizing this crossing. Maybe there still is.

But you know, the actual crossing doesn't happen like that. Maybe tonight on the way home I'll think about this, everytime I travel on a bridge.

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