Tomorrow’s Bridge

26 Oct

by David Combs

Tomorrow’s bridge, as I look ahead,
Is a rickety thing to view.
Its piers are crumbling,
Its rails are down,
Its floor would let me through.

 

The chasm it spans
Is dark and deep,
And the waters foam and fret.
I’ve crossed that bridge a thousand times,
Though I’ve never reached it yet.

 

It has crashed beneath me
To let me through.
Although it is miles away
How strange, the bridges I’ve crossed
Have all been safe today.

 

Perhaps I shall find
When I reach the one
That lies in distant blue,
Some hand may have mended its rickety frame
And its piers are strong anew.

 

And I shall cross over –
Light-hearted and free.
Like a bird on the buoyant air.
Forgive me Lord, for my fearful heart,
My anxious and foolish care.

David Combs wrote this poem at age eight, in response to all who told him that by losing his vision he would become incapable of helping himself.  He has proven them wrong!  David is blind, hard of hearing and has cerebral palsy.  Now age sixty-one, he resides at Friedman Place in Chicago.  This poem originally appeared in an NFB publication.

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2 Responses to “Tomorrow’s Bridge”

  1. Robin Hutchinson September 10, 2013 at 7:04 PM #

    This original poem was written by Grace Noll Crowell, a well loved American Poet 1877-1969, was it not? My mom learned it as a child and quoted it to me all through my years with her.

    • visionthroughwords September 10, 2013 at 7:39 PM #

      You may have discovered something we were not aware of. The author may possibly have used his own imagination or life story along with his memory of something he heard in his past!

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