I dreamt a dream that left me sweating,
A haunting scene I couldn’t quite shake.
Its meaning eluded me at first,
But now it’s clear, and everything’s bright.
She walked across the bridge, barefoot and proud,
A cigarette in her fingers, smoke curling against the sky.
She strode confidently, unafraid of a fall,
While I stood on the other side, silent and distant.
A chasm lay between us, a fragile wooden bridge,
And I hesitated, unsure where to tread.
Should I step forward and cross the divide,
Or let her walk on, keeping her secrets?
With each step I took, more fuel fell,
Threatening the bridge and all I held dear.
Each footfall brought me closer to the flame,
As if the way to her was meant to end in despair.
Then came the moment I dreaded most,
She dropped her cigarette, mindless as a ghost.
It touched the wood, and flames began to rise,
Engulfing the planks beneath the darkening skies.
The bridge ignited; smoke filled the air,
All we’d built crumbled, beyond repair.
The fire consumed what once held us together,
Turning to ash the path leading back to you.
I stood watching, with nothing left to save,
No bridge to cross, no courage left to show.
All that effort, every beam and tie,
Reduced to ashes beneath a burning sky.
And then I grasped what dreams cannot convey:
Not every route warrants the risk of pain.
Not every distance demands a struggle,
Nor every fading flame deserves our light.
Perhaps the hardest truth I must accept
Is knowing when to let go, allowing the past its peace.
For what remains when bridges fall away?
No path to you. No way back from you to me.
So let the ashes fall, let the last flames dwindle,
I will not pursue what burns before me.
I was ready to cross, but now I see:
The bridge is gone. And so is our bond.
Some dreams exist to break the heart,
Only to reveal what we must do.
Though the fire left its scars on me,
I awoke to find the truth had set me free.
Poet: Elkana Kuhenga
Contact: +255 788 629 229
