Dilapidated Invitations to Tranquility

Nighttime under a dilapidated bridge
Contemplation, inspiration, comes at intriguing times and places
Cool blue ripples around me
The water’s shifts are like my faces
I contemplate under this moon bridge

I sit under a dilapidated roof
The small island I sit on lush and warm
My feet, nearly touching the water
This shimmering liquid ice
A temptation of water’s cold secrets

This whole place is dipped in silver lining
Except under this dilapidated passage
Its own enigma for the world
Is enshrouded, dark, and relaxing
Far away from home, if I have one.

...At ‘home’… there are loud shouts and fireworks over a different bridge
But here, under this forgotten, dilapidated place
It seems a world away, cool and hushed here, except for crickets
Yet the river surrounding me will lead me to already-been places
If I wish to see them again...

Fireflies are my lanterns, the messengers of fading knowledge
Lighting up the dilapidated planks with their playful endeavors
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then exhale
Night dew sparkles, condensation like raindrops
Seeping through the bridge onto my head

I am seeking nothing in particular
Except enchanting solitude and relaxation from wordly concern
Looking for rare places like these to spend time with ancient beings
I’m happy for this dilapidated company
We can watch the world go by as a caressing breeze

I know not where I come from
Or where I’m going, what I look for
I go where anything will take me
I am a dilapidated teller
Traveling, content.

I open my eyes now, which reflect
The reflections of the cosmos in the river
A glimpse of another world in this dilapidated dream
My world is showing here, flowing here
Freed…