A Gift
Location
I trust you... I believe in you.
Statements not spoken lightly,
nor without profound thought.
Not thought truly in consciousness.
A decision to rely on, believe in,
or trust another.
Based off of interactions,
both physical and emotional.
Many a chasm, over which many a bridge,
ensnared by grasping greens,
call to be wondered.
Empty, soulless chasms they may be,
yet across lies such a freedom ne’er
gazed upon without prior knowledge,
of whence and such means needed,
to cross a bridge so crippled
in concern to time and age.
Of creaking timbers,
long abandoned and frayed rope,
an extension of no physical means.
For such a connection does not live,
such warmth as the Eden of the alternative side
shall not begin to satiate any but the mind.
All thoughts buried within ingenuity,
fuse without semblance of wakeful minds.
Measure and length have no bearing
upon perception of this pathway.
As one sees it, another cannot.
Footfalls light as a feather may be taken,
resounding whispers echo.
Strides, sonorous as the tide in full
may be laid out along this link,
which ne’er falters nor sways precarious.
Along the first few timbers,
subconscious thought blossoms
as petals in youthful spring,
falling away as floodwater from clouds
of summer sadness.
Blooming, cascading,
As endless as we allow them to be.
Shapes of waterfalls these ideas form,
growing less and less as journeying wears on.
After long or short span,
a portal majestic reaches at long last.
Momentous is this last stride;
this the last battle of bloodless wound.
For here lies a last breath, a last thought,
a last echo, a last sigh
of a once doubting mind,
metamorphosing into true, and conscious,
trust.