Live with a few bridges in your mouth and soon enough you notice,
you need not cross all bridges to get to the other side, just one, yet
The One must suit you or you are apt to fall off, grow disillusioned
and lose your enthusiasm for crossing over at all.
So crossing over, not coy and not acting but feeling the real McCoy,
you need some bridge of integrity, a thing to bind you, some attachment.
But in the end if you stay joined you stay stuck to one side, so you
let go the bridge at some integer to cross it entire, to see the other side.
Should you decide all that's for the birds, you'll remain segregated with your sect and then when you come to rest at the end of the palm of
your mind, you shall face dissolution never noticing the delight of utter integration at the end of the palm of your hand.
