Following the creek she once waded knee deep
in shallow waters,
In the distant a howling cry of a wild animal
creating an atmosphere of a wilderness in the crevices
of a jungle added a mystic to her destiny - one she was keen to explore.
The sun was high, nay not to be felt nor seen but hidden
between the clouds and the day seem fatigued without it
adding a dreariness of a hollow echo that followed its path.
The water seemed lucid and she lavished in its soak,
Further up a bridge of stone narrowed a widened path
curved to add a dimension of danger to those who walked.
A bridge that many crossed on their travail or be it for their travail
A 180 degrees added to its jagged mossed structure shading the
waters that it covered in its angular build.
For she knew not when the bridge was formed nor how many it
helped cross the bounds but stationed as it is between the lands
of tribes where animals and men crossed un-watched, the need
to reach the other end of line makes it a harbour of crossed