My love and I reside upon the belly of a bridge <br />with heartbeats of the sky?--the drums upon the bridge. <br /> <br />I've heard of songs that rise at night from pitch black oceans. <br />I've heard the strums of lyrics made by four hands on a bridge. <br /> <br />My love and I do landscapes for the gardens of the sea. <br />At night we sleep as seedlings at the center of its bridge. <br /> <br />Once I saw a Sufi breathe in seabirds, and send them out again. <br />I've seen people bearing blindfolds near the entrance of a bridge. <br /> <br />My love's old love, he says, had tried to douse him in a moat. <br />He grew gills to save himself and hid beneath a drawbridge. <br /> <br />The masters speak of magic at the middle of the rings <br />where Yes and No chase each other round the props of any bridge. <br /> <br />My love's new love, some say, makes far too much of things <br />as fundamental, elemental, as the structure of a bridge. <br /> <br /> <br />Anonymous submission.<br /><br />C.J. Sage<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bridge-ghazal/
