Over Rainbows and Bridges

As I stand here and look back over rainbows and bridges of my past, I see.  the woman.  Who stood, looking.  So strong.  And hopeful.  Over this rainbow that appeared in her midst. She was always looking.  For signs that things were going to change.  Even when they didn't.  For promises.  That things were bound.  To get better.  Even when they weren't.  She ran.  To capture this rainbow.  That she might keep.  This rainbow.  Forever.  Noticing.  How it bent down into the land that rested, so green, under her feet.  Where she was planted.  Mixed into the soil.  Like a lone tree.  She saw.  From up above, like a bluebird on a branch.  How this rainbow appeared down below.  A bridge.  Crossing over the deep blue depths of the sea.  Crossing over, she believed, from Heaven.  To earth.  For me.  She knew about bridges.  At least bridges in her life.  And what lies.  Under them.  But.  Still.  Here.  She stood.  So strong.  And hopeful.  Looking.  Like a bluebird in the branch of a lone tree.  Over this rainbow that appeared in her midst.  Yes.  Here.  She stood.  Still.  Strong.  And hopeful.  Looking.  Over rainbows.  And bridges.  Like me.

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