I sat on the
edge of a bridge
staring down
at the roiling
swirling depths
beneath me.
A stranger at
my shoulder
watches me.
"Will you jump?"
he asks.
I do not look
at him.
"Jump?
Why on earth
would I do that?"
I answer.
"If you were
not happy
with life.
Or curiosity
You will not
jump?"
I lean forward
over the waves,
"I do not know."
I say
"I am afraid
of water."
"Are you truly?"
he asks
"then why do you
sit there?
so precariously perched?"
I answer him,
"Because I do
not wish to live?
Or perhaps curiosity?
Maybe I wish to
overcome my fear...
The water
is rather beautiful
isn't it?"
I feel his eyes
on me
"Are you perhaps
mad?"
I laugh
throw back my head
and let myself laugh.
"Not at all.
If I were
would I jump?
would you?"
he is not smiling
is voice itself
is growling
"If I were
mad,
I would push you"
He can not
put a damper on
my mood.
I stare at
the artists dream
of an inspiration
below me
The man chatters
on about
slippery bridges
and being
accidently bumped
After a while
he realizes he
is being ignored
his voice is no
where near as
important to me
as the rising moon
over the water
The man stands
behind me
brooding.
Apparently he dislikes
being ignored
"Why do you
watch me,"
I ask
"Instead of the
wondrous view?"
The man considers
"The view knows
why it is there
and you don't"
I see the curve
of the almost
crescent moon.
"I know why
I am here."
I watch the
reflection of
myself over the
water,
"Sit with me
and you'll know
too"
He hopped over
the bar
and sat
almost too close
almost too far away.
He did not look at
the water
but at the stars,
"What brought
you here?" he asked.
I gave a small
sigh
"my dreams,
my nightmares,
what about
you?"
he swung his
feet under the
bridge
"my dreams,
my curiosity,
you."
I didn't really
care.
The obvious
flattery was lost
on me.
"Look down at
the water"
he did
"Isn't it beautiful?
The waves,
the reflections
the light shining
off the mirror
of the water.
Don't you
just want to be
part of it?
Part of the
beauty?"
He looked
away from
the water
looked at me
"I want to be
part of it"
He wasn't
talking about
the water
"What is your
name?"
he asked
"I'm not
going to
tell you"
I answered,
"What's yours?"
I asked.
"Jonathan"
he said.
I considered the
name,
"Are you brave,
Jonathan?"
he pondered
"I suppose so"
I smiled,
"Then maybe
I'll see you
again.
If not,
I'll miss you,
Jonathan."
And I jumped.