Wednesday, March 1, 2023

  All Text, Music, and Illustrations, including Paintings, Photographs, and 3D models, Copyright © 2022 by Jim Robbins.

Mangled Bridge



Open music in a new window.




MANGLED BRIDGE AND ROSY CROSS



Scrambling down a steep slope, I knelt before 

an Ithuriel’s spear, a rattlesnake rippling 

by my boot before I could even leap, lizards 

scampering through dry leaves, the river crashing 

 

through the canyon below me. Once I flew over 

unstable stones in the river bottom, struggling 

to keep up with my brother and our friends. Today 

I surveyed each inch before even taking a step. 

 

I found the skeletal steel frame of a washed-out bridge

clinging to a megalithic stone in the middle

of the river, and I remembered:  Forty years ago,

a friend blurted out a story about a collapsed bridge,

 

and without another word we had dashed through

the river bottom to find it. That day I had felt clumsy

and weak (the first signs of chronic illness), and I

just couldn’t keep up.  I had been ditched before

 

on a moonless night and in a cave, but never

abandoned in broad daylight. I was eleven

again, but I'd found the bridge and they hadn't.

Unlike them, I had continued to wander through a forest

 

of symbols, the bridge for a moment a ghastly symbol

of the past forty years. Somehow, I felt the same,

as if I had entered a timeless domain. Our fathers,

who had fished side by side that day,

 

both died a few years later.  Forty years before

in this same river bottom, my Holy

Guardian Angel, my daimon, more than once,

had spoken to me of events to come, decades

 

in the future. Nonplussed, I had forgotten

the voice until the events transpired.

The perplexing, unpredictable angel

is only my soul, whose voice transcends

 

space and time, in this quiet river bottom

and in meditation. Today I closed my eyes,

a rose blooming in my mind's eye, at first

blood-red on a cross of splintery wood,

 

then the petals changing colors, each petal

representing a path on the Tree of Life,

the cross an unfolded cube of space

and time. I could have been anyone

 

these past forty years, and this forest

would have hardly changed, yet

the rose cross blooms inside me

and perhaps eternally abides, a symbol

 

of the soul in timeless grace, the river

lost in time until I opened my eyes again

as a snake was slithering between

dry, slowly curling hands.









No comments:

Post a Comment

    All Text, Music, and Illustrations, including Paintings, Photographs, and 3D models, Copyright © 2022 by Jim Robbins. Two of Pentacles: ...