I started writing this poem many years ago while lying on Daneway banks but it took shape while I was living and working in Athens and, latterly, Lausanne and Lyon.
It employs the motif of a bridge, both in a physical and emotional sense to express the passions people can have for each other and the connections, feelings, and memories it can make between them.
The Bridge
Reach out my love,
Reach out.
Reach out across
The black water between us.
Reach out through the darkness
And touch my fingertips again,
Like you did, besides the lake,
Beneath the moon
And the silver speckled sky.
Come close my love,
Come close and sleep now.
We’ll light again
The thin green candle
You gave me aeons ago.
We’ll kiss ourselves to sleep
On beds of grass and dew
As you murmur your
Sleep and dreams
On my shoulder.
Reach out my love
Reach out.
We’ll build a bridge
With our bodies,
And hold each other tight
Until the morning light,
Steals into this bare room
And lifts the mist
From the oceans
Between us.
Reach out,
Reach out
My love,
Reach out.
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