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The Magic Bridge

     Is there a magic bridge, one which we can cross from the cold winter of our life back into the bright sunlight of our youth? I have often sat here on this old porch and mused of finding such a bridge. Then in reality, if I found it; would I cross over to the other side?

     Would I seek youth and forsake all the memories that life has brought… The young eyes of summer see me sitting here day by day and chuckle at the infirmity of old age as their days fly swiftly by. Summer, having looked out and seen winter but never thinking, knows not that it was the deep snows of winter that provided the water in which they play and grow.

     Middle aged eyes of fall opine that is what faces them, as the autumn leaves of life fall all around them. Fall stops not to realize, it is the on coming winter that forced them to show the beautiful colors in their foliage. But spring holds all things in common with winter! For spring seems to realize it was the winter which gave them birth; and it is towards winter they must grow.

     So this old cowboy continues to sit here on his side of the magic bridge; spinning his yarns, re-telling his memories to a new generation of listeners. For a gracious God has ordained that the children will seek out the best seat at the foot of the elders to learn, and the elders are constantly amazed the old memories told once more, will always bring smiles of delight in the eyes of a child.

© 2002 ~ David L. Griffith

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~ © 2002 David L. Griffith ~

"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval."

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