Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2014 06 14 The Bridge June 14, 2014

It’s a long journey across the great divide, or so it seems. The path across is dotted and speckled and colored with so many questions I have always asked, but never stood still long enough to gain possession of the answers. The doubt belongs to me and lies only with me as I look out and gaze at the anxious sight. The boards are weak, the railings, weathered, the suspended steel cables,rusted, frayed and stretched over the carved gorge of nature’s wrath.

Crossing should be an easy task, a simple quest, a goal truly reachable, but no one has told me so on this day. I only seem to hear the voices as a cluttered, echoing hall of envy, jealousy and vain. With all the eyes of the world doing their own impressions of their daily rituals, they all seem to somehow find time to focus on only me. I am the center of my world’s attention, and it comes as no surprise.

Could this be the bridge over troubled water that I have heard of so many times, or is the rising melody from the depths below another life choice towards the rest of my tomorrows? Could they be one in the same? Is this unappealing route a way across an unknown barrier, or has it been brought to me so that I may finally start to figure it all out? Am I supposed to be where I am, or am I wearing someone else’s shoes? The broken boards, the twisted hand rails, the heckling sounds of the ravine below, they taunt me and dare me to get on with it all.

One step at a time. One, frightful baby step at a time. That’s all this is going to take. That’s all I need to do. That’s all there seems to be to this next gift of the present, but there is so much more that I don’t even know.

I shudder as I step out onto the creaking path towards a future full of my existence. I cautiously shuffle my feet and timidly slide my steps, not daring to pick my feet up off the worn wood. I cling tightly to my past as the rushing torrent of yesterday’s water flows far under foot. The opposite side seems so far away, but then again, it always has.

I breathe and I step. I step and I breathe. Closing my eyes and slowly spinning underneath a searching sun, I hear faint whispers of encouragement, but I’m not certain if they are coming from across the passage, or from behind me. I dare not look down for fear of where I may end up. I can only look forward with guiding hope, and up towards the sky with courageous faith. Faith, guidance, courage and hope. Four bastions of sanity that have eluded me on more than one occasion are waiting patiently on the other side of the door at the other end of the bridge.

The bridge is the chosen way. The bridge is the next step forward. The bridge is resemblance of everything I have done in my life that has led me to here.

The bridge is here, and so am I.

And so, I take one more step.

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3 Responses to “2014 06 14 The Bridge”

  1. River Road Says:

    Deon, I like this piece very much particularly because of the expressive, emotional words you use – your internal, metaphorical “bridge” comes alive as you give it livingness through the descriptions. Some that I particularly like are: “…the anxious site…” –

    “…the rushing torrents of yesterday’s waters…”

    “I am the center of my world’s attention…”

    “…cluttered voices…”

    I like the way you chose to use a series of internal dialogue through the questions in the center of this short essay.

    The image of the horizontality of the bridge provides a tension between the vertaicality of the treacherous past (below) and the hopeful future (above), as you begin treading across the bridge which separates the two. Yet, that bridge is not solid, not secure, and is something that is dangerous and frightening, too. I have to say, reading this reminded me of a quote that I love, from my favorite poet, Rilke. He said, “Go into your self and see how deep the place is from which your life flows.” ……Ranier Maria Rilke

    Ah, that place is deep inside of you, that place you are treading lightly over in anticipation of the next step, I think!

    Lynda

    “Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, Dreams. Who looks inside, Awakens.”

    Lynda McKinney Lambert River Road Studio The Village of wurtemburg, PA 16117 My Blog: Walking by Inner Vision at http://www.lyndalambert.com

    ““Art is a dance between the artist, the art work, and solitude.” Lynda McKinney Lambert

    • DP Lyons Says:

      Thanks Linda. The metaphors that lie scattered along the bridge are endless, and yet, what lies at the end of the journey is so full of promise. I wonder sometimes if the gift at the end of the bridge is the actual experience of the journey itself. dp

  2. daddylion Says:

    outstanding hon,this says it all ,lu dad 


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