Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Bridge Builder

This morning a friend reminded me of this wonderfully inspiring poem that I used to love and sit on my sofa as a child and read from my mother's ideals magazine she kept on the coffee table. Every Thanksgiving we were charged to find a passage of something appropriate to share around the dinner table and I always turned to Mother's Ideals magazines... this poem always took my attention and its virtuous application always resonated within my spirit!

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The Bridge Builder

An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and gray,
To chasm, vast and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.
"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim near,
"You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way;
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide --
Why build you the bridge at the eventide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pit-fall be,
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him."

Will Allen Dromgoole


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