I stood on the bridge,
stopping the people as they crossed over.
What do you see? I asked.
The river.
Sky.
Water.
A sandbar.
The levee.
Trees.
Gulls.
Light.
Color.
Reflections.
The horizon.
A plastic bottle on its way to a snag, or maybe the Gulf of Mexico.
And much more,
they answered.
None of them saw me,
or at least they didn’t say so,
but that wasn’t the answer I was looking for either.
Like the captain of the ship, I will not abandon my post.
If there are words for what I see, I will find them.
Look for me on the bridge, scanning the visions entering my soul
for Truth and Beauty and Meaning and Mystery
and the words that will enshrine the essence of what I see.
If you check and detect no pulse,
toss my body over the railing
and I will commune there at the bottom of the river
with the elements.
There will be others to carry on my search.
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