The Journey Lost
Sad admiration as ember spreads a
flame and bridges burn.
There is no going back. A discontented spark
ignites and on a distant shore forever turned
away fond memories that can be no more.
In thinner lines the days draw out
ahead. Their numbers fewer: until the pall
of Winter and of night engulfs them
all. It is a time alone. And
bleak. I am too weak to build again.
Why to such an end? When earlier on
the little wounds would quickly heal. No
more. The greatest hurt of all I’ve
brought upon myself in setting torch to bridges.
Alone the frightening walk into a vast unknown.
The journey ends in slow defeat unless, not looking
back, a lantern glows ahead held up to mark a path
for me to tread, to cross a bridge that someone else
has built - and take me somewhere
else into a place that’ s not as yet been spoiled
e. w. oestreich
26 September 2010
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