A Bridge

Walking in the woods by a brook,
I stride along the path I took,
and in front of me I see a bridge.
If only I could be a bridge.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
to stretch out over race, religion, language, and gender.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
to rest one end on the shores of freedom,
and the other spread across the world for all to cross.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
they could pass over all of the torment and hatred
to a land of peace and harmony.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
I would stay strong and sturdy,
to never sway, never rock, never fall.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
they could walk, drive, skip, flip across and never trip and fall.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
I would have walls of impenetrable glass
to protect my cargo in passing.
If I could be a bridge for everyone,
I could help everyone see the eyes of God.
Oh, if only I could be a bridge.
Staring at that bridge,
watching the people as they cross,
as they peek over the edge into the blissful water,
I see the wanting in their eyes,
I see the moment of peace they feel,
and if I were that bridge,
I would be healed.