Spin the wheels
Skip a rock
Where it lands no one knows
Walking along the bridge
Connecting what was to what is

Early morning tea and coffee
Words float upon old threads
Woven into our hearts and mind
Many has sat and discussed the same
Putting artists upon glass shelves
Which should be shattered
And take those chards to build a bridge
Connecting what was to what is

Old Mr. Zimmerman is speaking again
This time with honesty and truth
He never wanted to be a spokesperson
But we all put him up there
All he wanted
Was to be a musician and artist
It was us that put the role
Up before him
That he shied away from
We chose to do this
For we were afraid to speak

Bridges are part of the old leading to the new
Not the old becoming the new
But we sit and wait for it to be built
When it is us
That are part of process
Wake up to your art
Become the voice you were given
Be the bridge to the new
And don’t’ sit this one out

09/30/2004

Author's Note: written in a coffee shop as two of my friends and I were discussing poetry, Bob Dylan, and life

Posted on 01/22/2005
Copyright © 2025 Mark Maxey