There are bridges to be burned
which turn another page.
Form each circle
cast your bread upon the water,
It will return in measure and method unexpected
Yielding treasure.
There is energy to be stored
and
Experiences to be reviewed
Days of cheese and laughter
ponies
and that transient beauty that permeates the soul.
There is laughter paying homage to the memories
and the loss
which sneak up on me as I turn
to retrace
steps half remembered as my eyes
seek the bridge
now ashes
that separate me
from
my
grief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice point that at least in the burning of a bridge, there has been a bridge to burn which was made at one time and how energy is constantly being recycled but has to be created in the first place!