Through The Tunnel
On the bridge, half way through,
I'm squeezed in the dark tunnel.
Soft lights around, the beat of the traffic
pounds in my ears.
Now I can see the light
coming closer, sharp and unforgiving
and it urges me -
it is time to go.
The two arms of the bridge
shining and warm, rising up in blessing
and my movement toward them,
is soft and suspicious and swift.
Now I forget the pain,
and I can smell the light.
The city, misty and enlightened,
is waiting for me to breathe.