The Bridge

I was looking at a broken mirror, but seeing a perfect image.
Someone who makes you believe that you can do things you never believed possible, someone whose criticism only makes you stronger – and they always make you laugh with life. Its where living on the edge becomes fearless. When do you have enough of love, the miracle that is invisble to others?
All the deep, etched memories I can forget. There is something that doesn’t go away. It taps me on the shoulder, winks from across the distance that separates us, whispers to me, darkening the night’s silence. Soul, heart, laughter and feeling shone in those eyes green as a baby dragon’s scales…. Probably something was let out of my imagination that loved you for all you were. I saw it alone, or perhaps something like it has been seen before. I admired you more than I respected you but that would have been hard to admit. It was the kind of loss that tears at your mind and you wish time wouldn’t change what was wonderful, though not perfect.
Tracing my finger over a possibility I didn’t want to miss, so many things caused me to remember … I don’t’ want to forget any of it, but I have. So I wrap old chances somewhere to collect dust until the sun shines warm on your face in front of me again.
Oct/nov 1998