Today’s post has carried a whole lot of thought and consideration throughout this whole process . Even how the Poem appears and sounds, should find the message carry home easier. Or suuch has been the aim, when setting this here on this blog.
Todays Post is as the Title satates “Building Bridges” or to be more exact “REBuilding Bridges”. Because when a relationship breaks down and there comes to be very little occasion to talk out differences ot discussing what caused the division. Then The sands of time becomes the greatest enemy of all that erodes all wises to rebuild the bridges.
For this Poem, I wanted to bury each thought and every portion of message under words that I hope will carry the reader on through this Poem. I believe in the end of this poem the message is thought proviking and should give cause to consider any questions, If the reader themselves are impacted by such words.
It is never too late above the grave and It is never too late when all parties are still living. For Should one of the parties be entered into a grave, Then It would be pointless rebuilding those bridges that should have been done a long time before hand.
It is never too late when still outside the gate where The Reaper calls out NEXT!
Rebuild Those Bridges Now, If Such bridges fail to be rebuild, Then all can say You tried and worked at your end to rebuild..
I Hope this makes sense to reader! At Times these things make a lot of sense to myself, BUT fail to do the same with Others.
Having said all of this; Please Enjoy This Poem:
And Happy Christmas and the Peace and Love this Season should bring Visits you.
(( The above Photograph was taken from an outside source and posted here with thanks And Copyrite remains with those who carried out such great work))
Building Bridges
The sands of time flow quickly past,
To rebuild the bridge left for last.
But rivers carry their load there,
Beyond the weathered road of despair.
Building bricks and cobbled stone fell,
For troubles and strive there did dwell.
And rivers of pride flowed through fast,
As divided joints broke apart past.
For the Iron heated many times,
Yet no striking carried on the climbs.
Still dancing apart until the end,
Beyond the bend, a breath to defend.
Where the crowded station apart,
Stands twisted shards of hearts depart.
There loose change scattered for lost chances,
Opportunity missed and dances.
Standing at the grave counting the cost,
As swallowed pride, that finds the lost.
Yet build the bridge outside the gate,
When the reaper shall not be late.
© Pat Fitzgerald 2024
ENDING THOUGHTS:
Thank you for following me on my little journey, that is composing or writing poetry. If Life is a journey which we all walk on and my journey in creating Poetry is a journey of it’s own. Which I still learn much on as I write.
At times I experiment on methods or way how I can improve my poetry, therefore getting feedback is always most welcome for such as these.
When I write poetry, some readers may be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. BUT I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.
But Poetry is a form of art work that I enjoy and thus using it in a manner to touch or inspire the reader.
Thank you for joining me on this journey.
Poetry is a learning curve where I always work to improve. A lot of work goes into editing and reediting and then repeating that process on a number of occasions until I am happy with the result. This is how I operate in creating posts to share here.
Please forgive for any such mistakes and for your understanding this.
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Until Next Time Cheers.
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