Thursday, October 20, 2011

Amaranthine



I have crossed a thousand bridges
in my search for something real.
There were great suspension bridges
like spiderwebs of steel.

There were tiny wooden trestles
and there were bridges made of stone.
I have always been a stranger
and I have always been alone.

There's a bridge to tomorrow
there's a bridge from the past
there's a bridge made of sorrow
that I pray will not last.

There's a bridge made of colors
in the sky high above
and I think there must be
bridges made of love.

I can see her in the distance
on the river's other shore
and her hands reach out in longing
as my own have done before.

And I call across to tell her
where I believe the bridge must lie
and I'll find it yes I'll find it!
if I search until I die.

When the bridge is between us
we'll have nothing to say
we will run through the sunlight
and she will meet me halfway.

There's a bridge made of colors
in the sky high above
and I think there must be
bridges made of love.

* * *

Brazil, when stars were entertaining June,
We stood beneath an amber moon
And softly murmured someday soon...
We kissed and clung together

Then -- tomorrow was another day
The morning found us miles away
With still a million things to say...
And now, when twilight dims the skies above
Recalling thrills of our love
There's one thing I'm certain of...

Return, I will...
To Old Brazil...

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