Drops of Color/ This Side

Drops of Color
This Side

There
in front of a calm stream
~~~a bridge.

A bridge
with an unwritten invitation,
‘Come, crossover.’

So, cross over I did.
Now, that I was over
what I crossed
was I on another side?

If I crossed back ‘over,’
would the bank across the way
be another side…again?

Bridges do indeed
give way to
another side.

Yet, from this place
~~~from this bridge
~~~as I stood in its center,
both ‘sides’ opened my
eyes to see.

Yes, dad, you!
You crossed over~~~
yet, I see you
from this bridge.

I see you in all things.
As I gaze into the
water beneath this bridge,

I see you staring up at me
from the reflection of myself
on this side of a bridge.

I love you dad.

(In lasting memory to every man who is a father)

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