June Blog: Our Sides of the Bridge

“A bridge itself is a span that allows two fixed points that would never connect to have the ability to meet over objects and impediments that would normally keep these two fixed [places] from meeting.”

– Pastor John Gray

I see you across the way and I know you see me too

I am sure you have ideas about me, as I have ideas about you

Ideas told as twisted whispers through the grapevines of history

that neglect your humanity and push your presence to the periphery

Forbidding you from taking up space to lessen our proximity

Nullifying your experience; the true tale of two cities.

But these twisted whispers seldom hold truth.

These twisted whispers about me and mostly about you.

I see you across the way and I know you see me too.

But neighbor, I seek to know you.

If I build a bridge to connect our paths, will you meet me there?

Or better yet, let me come to you.

Let me relieve the burden from your shoulders of carrying that conformity

into a white washed world where wariness weighs down

the endless potential of who you are,

and instead,

presses you into the shape of who you are expected to be


On my side

Of the bridge.

Pressure pulls you to be a part of my polarity

While repelling the pledge that preaches solidarity.

Privilege is sweet, but I choose to be grounded in clarity;

For I know its bitter aftertaste is your only sense of familiarity


On my side

Of the bridge.

These repeated cycles of abuse placing value in my hues,

And still, my people look to you as a muse.

They say, “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice”

And that’s why we so often take from you.

We steal your style, but give you no credit

We sing to your songs as though they’re embedded

Into the lineage of our souls, but that’s just pathetic.

The crux of who you are, your nature, your essence,

Is the most profound quality that creation could inherit.

They say, “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice”

But Dave says, “the blacker the killer, the sweeter the news”

You try to explain, but we fight to accuse


On my side

Of the bridge.

If I build a bridge to connect our paths, will you let me cross into your world?

Because I, I want to learn.

I’ll let you do the talking, it’s my turn to listen

Can I cherish in the moments where you feel bliss within?

Can you teach me your lived experiences so I can work to fight the division

That bounds you to an earth plane when you were meant to be risen?

Because here,

on my side of the bridge,

There are people like me who want to lift you to the sky from above.

When you say, “Jump” we say, “How high?” type of love.

That, “I’m not going to turn a blind eye” on you, love.

That comfort-to-confide-in-me type of trust.

That bond that’s “thicker than water” type of blood

Is what the people like me

Hope to someday earn

On my side

Of the bridge.

I will never understand your suffering

Nor will I ever know that sense of smothering

You feel from this government

Whose constant hovering

Keeps you from uncovering

The justice that you deserve

Replaced by prejudice that is preserved

On my side

Of the bridge

Did you know that you taught me

That you could find hope in hopelessness?

Or that you could fill a void with more openness?

That the fruit of your healing bears great wholesomeness?

By this I know that no movement is motionless.

Let me validate your existence without highlighting your brokenness.

Let me educate my people on the importance of boastfulness

During this time

On my side

Of the bridge.

There are people like me who want to do better by you

Who will take a stand to walk beside you

Who will raise their voices at those who don’t cry for you

And even when you think we can’t, we will still try to.

Because truth be told;

There is no siren soundtrack louder than the rhythm of your soul

There is no deeper wisdom, than that of the knowledge you hold

No greater river than the one that flows

Through the veins of your skin,

Your blackness is gold.

So, let’s break the mold;

Liberate ourselves from the expectations we uphold

Of a society that is far too old,

Whiter than snow, and just as cold.

I promise to keep you from harm and let the healing unfold.

Each and every time we meet

On our sides

Of the bridge.

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