*Editor’s Note: This piece is part of a series—lucky you. Head to the author’s profile to continue reading.

 

Fresh footprints pause halfway across this bridge adorned in snow and ice.

I’m hearing whispers of a little brook passing below.

Trees on the bank standing firm ‘til earth no longer offers support.

The graceful innocence of water trailing through the wood,

Rendering roots naked and exposed.

 

A young family plays nearby. Giggling, loving, vibrant.

Swings and merry-go-rounds cleansed under snow.

Feeling exposed on the bridge, am I intruding on family time?

The brook whispers, “stay, don’t go,” luring me to safety.

Standing firm, I remain.

 

A pavilion stands behind me, awaiting spring get-togethers and summer gatherings.

Caught between private moments and the familiar structure whence I came,

I’m now naked and exposed,

Feeling liberated as thoughts come into focus.

 

These trees don’t begrudge the little brook stripping their roots bare.

Would the seed have sprouted if it knew the earth would leave it?

Of course it would choose to grow, right there in that very spot.

Doomed, yet tall. Ever so graceful.

 

The family moves along, and I don’t linger.

There’s no safety but in my imagination,

Life is flowing by, and I can’t stand here forever,

For life can’t exist on this bridge of uncertainty.

 

Each step a new footprint in the snow and ice,

A playground awaits and I smile openly.

Yet I’m aware that these trees will someday fall,

And these footprints will fade away.