An Indian legend says:
“When a human dies there is a bridge they must cross to enter into heaven. At the end of the bridge waits every animal that human encountered during their lifetime. The animals, based on what they know of this person, decide which humans may cross the bridge…and which are turned away.”
Karma and Loyalty at it’s best!
Distant cups of love had always been waiting…
willing and able to covet me.
Still, the fortress is pre-made.
A limb from a different kind of loyalty.
Erected of stick and stone.
Embedded upon a ‘last supper’ divided amid…
‘you are on your own.’
I cannot easily locate a trace of love’s loyalty…
higher than embankments shrouded in hypocrisy.
Perhaps, it sets higher in the broken branch of just one tree.