You might cross that bridge
when you come to it,
or you might not.

You, overburdened
pilgrim, a tiny bit broken,
might hesitate, stop even,

wondering what the next
right step might be. You,
ferrying your own fragile

heart—you, witness,
caretaker of so many
others’ stories. Take

a breath, brave human,
and set a tentative foot
on the bridge that will

lead you somewhere,
though you cannot see
where. One foot, then

the other and another,
right step after right step—
you and your limpy,

wayfaring self—
press forward, then
pause for another breath.

Look up and revel in
the beyond-endless
clouds frothily stacked

like whipped cream,
like a storm-surged sea.
Take a moment for awe,

you with so much love
stinging your heart,
suspended between

this side and that,
between now and then,
between here and gone.

You cannot go astray.