THE BRIDGE BUILDER

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An old man, going a lone highway,

Came, at the evening, cold and gray,

To a 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 pitfall be.

He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;

Good friend, I am building the bridge for him.”

Will Allen Dromgoole

Simply put, this poem speaks of each generation’s responsibilities to its successors.

It is not just about us-ourselves-and-we; it’s also about generations to come after us, who will have a chance for a better life if we take responsibility today.

My time will pass, and yours too – but the collective history of our times will remain. What will that history read years from now?

Take the world, make it a better place: for me, and for you, and the entire human race.

Deliver the future, shall we?

(This is for Tommy Israel Etim who was a year older on Tuesday, and who built me a bridge and then carried me across it. Yotomi, I love you!)