Without rhyme nor reason

How one thing
         leads to another
a sequence
         a chain of events
bound by conjunction
         the loose links
that hold it all together
         the turbulence
of the spoken word
         from me to you
or you to me
         so that a bridge
is a relationship
         it delivers a message
a path of conveyance
         an enabler and a solution
the removal of an obstacle
         a static craft that ferries
the living crowd
         I had not thought
that the earth contained
         so many. . .

and poetry
         the impalpable substance
ideas and sentiments
         for generations to come
others will watch
         the run of the floodtide
but Walt’s text is there
         for all time
a bridge between
         now and then
others will see Ellis Island
         or the Staten Island ferry
creeping into Gotham City
         at night under a winter sky
flakes falling
         into the depths below
as you cross
         from shore to shore
the current rushing
         loose and swollen
by recent rains
         the white snow
and the white gulls
         their bodies oscillating
in the bitter wind
         one word after another
life love sight sound
         time for all time
and in the distance
         the march of money
that rises skywards
         that conquers the air
the swells
         in the swollen vaults
that lies sleepless in its bed
         gone the white sails
of schooners and sloops
         money into steel and glass
and the East River
         in its ebb-tide
falling back to the sea
         I too am with you
and know how it is
         the view of and on
and from and beyond
         the bridge

John Lyons