The Yellow Bridge

The news of death, who can tell. Yet one more has left the earth. In an instance a journey that starts with a cry, ends without saying good bye. All that is left are footprints of a sojourned traveler , just evidence that one has passed by, there is no sight of the culprit.

          His footprints tell of his great exploits, the many territories he conquered , the great wealth he acquired , the many difficulties he faced. Watching from his early steps traces through a path of scorched thorns and dryness, then passing through a barn of plenty.

          I paused to see if his steps will end here, but instead it grew larger and continued through a path I am still yet to fathom.

          The path was divided into seven , all led to a yellow bridge, the first was burning in its entirety .The second harbored wild animals in all its routes. The third was covered by water. The fourth was a path of thorns a d prickly plants. The fifth had its terrace lined by vipers. The sixth was a mixture of all. The seventh was smooth and straight.

          Suddenly , a voice spoke to me from behind; saying , “which would you have chosen, all still leads to one path.”  As I battled with that question, my sight gazed quickly at the remaining prints, they followed the smooth and straight path.

Then I answered , “who would have chosen otherwise?” this time the voice spoke from in front of me saying, “ The existing are mindful of their existence , the tormented know how to contend their fears, the untested will have nothing but tears”

          Immediately , I could see many trying to cross the endless bridge, but only a few at the other end.

                                             Professor X/2005/for the INC