There Are Higher Bridges Poem by Peter S. Quinn

There are higher bridges to be here crossed
Then we go through live most ordinarily
The dice of opportunities to be tossed
To find the way to come and become free
The rivers of the flowing are beginning
With times to find and life to live on
Each hour of the new way is there singing
And filling hope with what is made and done

Under the stones of fortunate ways
Love lies buried in the well of morning spring
That thrives and meets the eye of beauty
The rustles of the leaves many days
Shall come to hours of tomorrow and bring
With it its full chorus line and tutti