When I left

 When I left, I saw your heart break.

It echoed all the way up here —
a sound made of love and loss all at once.

You held my collar,
you whispered my name,
and I wanted so badly to run back to you.

But the Bridge held me gently.
It told me, “You’ll see them again.
For now, your love must do the healing.”

So I send it back to you —
in sunsets, in feathers, in sudden warmth.
Each one a small piece of Heaven,
crossing that Bridge to rest upon your heart.

And little by little,
the cracks began to glow.
The pain didn’t vanish —
it became light.

That’s how the Bridge works —
it connects what can’t be seen,
mending what can’t be touched.

One day, you’ll step onto it too.
And when you do, I’ll be waiting —
tail wagging, eyes shining,
ready to guide you across.

Until then, let your heart keep healing.
Because every time you love again,
every time you smile through tears,
the Bridge glows brighter —
and I feel it, even here.