by Giancarlo N. H. Gonzaga

Set fire to the bridge crossed lickety-split
Set fire to the bridge creaking under your feet
Set fire to the bridge swaying beneath you
Set fire to the bridge making you stumble too
Set fire to the bridge left for years unused
Set fire to the bridge you built anew
Set fire to the bridge needed to be rebuilt
Set fire to the bridge where blood was spilt
Set fire to every bridge so
And you are left all alone, with no one to go

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As one walks through nature, walks through life, obstacles are encountered. They may be silvery streams or raging rivers, little cracks or a gaping ravine, moments of disappointment or deep-set loneliness.

It is in our nature to need bridges as we walk through life. Bridges across obstacles, bridges with people, bridges with the flora and fauna in the biosphere we share. Bridges to culture and tradition, bridges to the seasons, bridges to humanity itself.

We are born with bridges to our nature, and we build bridges to what we love.

And yet we burn them. Burn them with a passion. Mire ourselves in loathsome derision as we hew away and fell scores of trees, scathe those we hold dear to us, act against humanity for self-serving gains. And we are left all alone, with no one and nowhere to go to for comfort, shunned by nature and humanity alike. We have been warned.