The hanging bridge
Was indeed a thing of beauty.
It always stood up
To house its functions
With a generosity of spirit
Making it ever golden
In the lore of the bards
And the lute of the maiden
The rainbow connection
In everyone’s destination
A beacon in the mist of confusion
On top the rugged cove of jagged pain
This solid stretch of reaching finger
Aglow in the ring of fire.
FAITH, SELF AND YOU
Faith is like a superior lover
The mercurial prize
That must be continually re-earned
Through concentric circles growing tighter
Shatteringly honest
A pure sensation
That can carry you away
From ambiguous emotions
Something to secure the adventurer
To the hardwood anchor
Of a horizon-less heaven
Through a looking glass.
The geometry of arguments
And consolidations finally make sense
When your thoughts join my own
Galloping off in perfection In celebration of what we treasure
Assuming the outer self
To be really a mirror
To gather the inner self.
Contributor:
ELZY THARAMANGALAM. Ph.D. holder, writes poem in English and short stories in Malayalam. She teaches English at the Native Indian Reserve in Pukatwagen, Manitoba. In 1998, she secured the second prize for the North American Poetry Competition. Has published poems in the Anthology of the National Library of Poetry and Anthology of the Poetry Guild.
