Before the green tangle
of the vines and the brush,
there was a time
when students would rush
over the creek to their school each day.

And I was their bridge
built sturdy and strong;
the passage to follow
as they walked along,
laughing and talking while going their way.

Then–a roadway, a fence
around the school ground…
soon life became quiet;
a new route was found.
My role as a bridge was suddenly finished.

The students then walked
in a different direction;
I no longer served
as their useful connection.
I was a bridge, but my purpose diminished.

The chatter is now
a quieter hush
of critters and insects,
and the soft gentle rush
of the wandering stream as it passes beneath.

Although it is true
that I’m covered with vines,
and now rusted and worn
from the passage of time,
I’m still the same bridge that lies underneath.

My mission has changed,
but I’m blessed to know
I’m providing a trellis
for new life to grow.
My purpose may differ, but my essence remains.

I’m now a connection
between earth and sky,
a place for a rest
as birds learn to fly,
for vines to reach upward and sunlight obtain.

The years will keep passing,
and I may keep fading,
but if I can be helpful
without hesitating
to serve yet another, I’ll not be defeated.

Through every season
of life, I’m connecting
one to another,
supporting, protecting.

I may be old, but I am still needed.

We should be in constant evolution and adapt to the new without ever losing our essence or our integrity.
~ Pedro Capo

(Photos by Karen)


  1. For some reason, reading this,
    tears have come into my eyes
    for the times I’ve been remiss,
    and paid no heed to the good-byes
    that had been so justly earned,
    but I just hurried on my way.
    Bridges used and bridges burned
    when I thought all of life was play.
    I wonder if God will forgive,
    or even if perhaps He should,
    for even if the days I lived
    were fashioned mostly to the good,
    no passing time can e’er erase
    the image of a sad spurned face.

    Liked by 1 person

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