Weekend Bridge Building

There is a saying, “No man is an island”. We all need someone in someway it’s the very fabric our existence. My reflection of the weekend was one of bridge building so many “island’ of sort being connected through the power of brotherly love and fellowship. Sure there was a lot of events taking place in the city but the magic happened in those unanticipated interaction. The sit down dinner where we broke bread together and enjoyed each other unique personalities and silly side walk chatter where no really wanted to go. Then there was the presence of new love blossoming like a rose that is opening up at the request of the warm early morning sun. How they gazed into one another eyes with passion that burned like a wild fire and the only thing that could quench the flames was a kiss of their lover’s lips. For a match to give heat something must burn, so was the death seen for a love that had burned out and they just held on to warmth of the ashes which got colder by the moment.
I’ve seen the power of creativity through poetry, spoken word and music. I’ve seen the many shapes and faces of familiar spirits. I’ve had laugher poured over me like warm syrup that stuck to my skin, my ribs, my soul and filled me with joy. I danced as of if I was possessed by some muse of music and she wanted me dance into eternity. I touched the skin of pure butter and longed for it to melt, cover me and drown me. I rapped my arms around stone and longed for it to crush me. I kissed the lips for an angel and longed to be taken to the heavens or anywhere above. I fought desire to keep my spirit pure.

So ask how my pride was I will tell you that I built a bridge and I plan to cross.