So I've been thinking about bridges.
In particular, about this quote: “The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn.” - David Russell
This is a variation, I think, on what I often claim is the primary challenge of parenthood: knowing when to push and when to let go.
I like thinking about these things, about how true they are, how they apply to my life. It seems I've done my share of crossing and burning lately. It's not easy.
Did you know there is a bridge engraved with poetry in Minneapolis, MN? Minneapolis, where I just visited a few months ago. How I wish I'd known about this at the time! I totally would have put it on the itinerary, even though reports are that it is very LOUD. (I'm not a big fan of LOUD.)
Anyhow, the poem is by John Ashbery. That first sentence is a brilliant jumping-off place for anyone's poem. In fact, I'm borrowing it for my morning work. We'll see what happens.
And now I cannot remember how I would
have had it. It is not a conduit (confluence?) but a place.
The place, of movement and an order.
The place of old order.
But the tail end of the movement is new.
Driving us to say what we are thinking.
It is so much like a beach after all, where you stand
and think of going no further.
And it is good when you get to no further.
It is like a reason that picks you up and
places you where you always wanted to be.
This far, it is fair to be crossing, to have crossed.
Then there is no promise in the other.
Here it is. Steel and air, a mottled presence,
and lucky for us.
And then it got very cool.
What are your thoughts on bridges, burning and/or crossing? Let me hear from you in comments. And don't forget to visit Jone at Check It Out for Poetry Friday Roundup!