How many times - today - have I crossed this bridge?
And have I really crossed over it lately?
Have I crossed to the gardens and the lake;
the fountain and the ancient trees?
Or have I just timidly ventured to the first few pylons,
felt the tremble of its engineering beneath the rushing load of traffic,
briefly surveyed the scene,
admired the view with panic in my heart
and retreated to the safety of the eastern shore?
I know the answer and it points to ye olde thirst again:
"I'm gonna be fulfilled before this day is done, starting now!"
Determined to cross to drink in the freshness on the other side
And then to dance back home, fulfilled, and ready to ask myself
"Now what can I do
This is it!
Not that or there
But This, Here.
Could "This" be a new name for the un-nameable?
Could Heaven really be Here Now?
There's no room for doubt in feeling
Gratitude feels best: