True Story.: Dr. Horrible

The Bridge

by Joy Cowley

There are times in life  

when we are called to be bridges,

 not a great monument spanning a distance

 and carrying loads of heavy traffic,

 but a simple bridge to help one person

from here to there  

over some difficulty

 such as pain, grief, fear, loneliness,  

a bridge which opens the way  

for ongoing journey.   

When I become a bridge for another,

 I bring upon myself a blessing,  

for I escape from the small prison of self  

and exist for a wider world,  

breaking out to be a larger being  

who can enter another’s pain  

and rejoice in another’s triumph.

  I know of only one greater blessing  

in this life, and that is,  

to allow someone else

 to be a bridge for me.