bridges once burned

bridges once burned
(  February 2008    )

                   How was I to know you would tire of our friendship,
                                or that I would be living so far away from there?
                                                ( from Coffee in the Proctor District by Friend Stephen)

it was a time of chaos and confusion
brought about by the uncertainty
born from our own excesses
drugs and alcohol
         expectations
unrealistic dreams and desires
and the lose of innocence

there was a madness about
touching what was inside us
        and the world outside
the walls of conservatism
the dogma of unquestioning servitude
and the endless rules to be obeyed
like strait-jackets wrapped too tight

it had to end            and soon
there had to be something more
it wasn’t to be found there
amidst all that was swirling
turning all upside down
breaking from a center
that could no longer hold

i stood on the platform
taking a last look around
the skid road alleys
populated by the prostitutes
         and the infirmed
downtrodden and forgotten
in the proclaimed land of plenty
all was to be left behind

i lit another cigarette and then
with a casual flick of the wrist
                   set fire to my bridges
i watched them burn
collapsing as formless ash
while the train pulled out
they were gone
         not to be crossed again

days passed into months
then into years until finally
they themselves became decades
the final shreds of innocence
lost in the continual changes
foreseen but never
         as was to be expected
and in return …
         the uneasy compromise
the sense of some security
although never really believed
while we kept telling ourselves
                   and others
we hadn’t given up the fight

memories are made with
each passing moment we live
it is what we choose on our own
to remember for whatever reason
known or unknown
         accepted or rejected
that stays dormant within us

they say we’ve mellowed out
as we have begun to get older
think it is more we are just tired
and looking for that moment
                            of peace and quiet
that we had lost and then forgotten
as if it never really was there at all

it is then          in the remembering
          that we remember once again
thoughts begin to wander about
dipping into the past now gone
the opening up of many old doors
long closed and bolted shut with silence

age brings a lot of things with it
         a new perspective
                   new questions
the regrets of what we had done
in a moment of passing emotions

with hands now grown feeble
a new reaching out begins
to grasp again
             and hold onto this time
what there once had been
until carelessly tossed aside
with no sense of the loss
         or knowing what it was about
except . . .
        just something abandoned
                   for seemingly forever

that seems to be the way
         of thoughts and memories
there is something we remember
it in turn brings forth another
         and then
                        yet another
                                          and another
until gradually          with it’s own purpose
closed doors are unbolted
                    then opened
no longer forgotten is so much

it is overwhelming at first
         slightly disjointed
as we attempt to make a connection
between the then and now
         never easy
to put all the pieces together
         something still missing
or at least                    out of focus
as to what it was all about
         or
                 what we thought it was about
back then

back then                    the dreams
the expectations
                   the innocence
and the indulgences that changed them
we haven’t forgotten
                   never did
we just banished them to the shadows
that lurk out of sight
                   of daily thoughts and concerns
we gave up on them
         one reason or another
                   so we believe
but          they are still there
                   yet to be realized
in some new way or meaning

i think of those bridges once burned
as they once were
                   can not be crossed again
but . . .          can they be rebuilt
not as some return to what was
         or passage to some future
but  . . .          as a remembrance
          maybe          an understanding
of what the past was all about

i am no longer naive with youth
         that innocence long turned to guilt
so much has changed
         so much time and distance
filled by events          not shared
but lived out nonetheless
         alone or with some other

i look back at the remains
is there anything that remains
         that may be built upon
once again                    some new way

of some          the ashes have blown away
replaced by green fields of silence
in which no words will again be spoken
           or heard
of those          it is over          done
death has seen to that
leaving only cold marble markers
reminders of what has been lost
         wasted          by whatever
and shall never be regained
         re-lived          again

of others          a foundation remains
         shaky          unstable            barren
with the doubt if it could be built upon
before it would again crumble
                             and fall
back into the silent distance of time
too much remains to be cleared away
with just some words                  thoughts
         that pass over so much
there are the scars of wounds inflicted
not completely healed                    nor
         grown over with a new life
that would put so much to rest

of still others          there is hope
ground both fertile and solid
         to sow new seeds of friendship
                   to rebuild upon
to make it stronger                    lasting
than it had once been before

from the bedrock that is me
         i carved out two cornerstones
placed them by the river of the past
chipped away was my own arrogance
         a pride filled by emotions
                   and one-sided remembrance
i opened up myself
         and found something worthwhile
it is that something that has been put forth
         to firm up and brace
                   a new foundation laid
                             to be built upon

will those bridges be rebuilt
         will they stand once again
or . . .
         will time and distance
                   with changes they carry
bring them down to the ground
leaving only crumbled remains
not much different than the match
once struck and casually tossed
to burn away what there was
         so many years ago

will the bridges ever be rebuilt
         can they be rebuilt
will they be strong enough to stand
         to bear the weight of what went before
will we cross them
         meeting in the middle
                   with words of a friendship
once known and cherished
         then soon forgotten
i do not know
         nor will i ever          unless
i find the strength to try          once more
         to rebuild bridges once burned