Rahil Najafabadi’s “The Bridge”

There was a time when I thought the moon followed us.
Then the sun, and the camp of stars thrown like a blanket
trinketed with gold. On many of those nights, I remembered
the daytime blue coloring the page of each bridge you made.

If I spoke another language, I’d still be able to call your name.
If I drove on another bridge, I’d still think of yours and our car.
I’d still imagine the word ‘father’ stretching from the right side
of the page to the left, like the way you’re on the right side

Of the earth’s page, and I am on the left. At night, it is your day.
My day becomes the dark thread of the sea that is tied to the sky—
I wish the bridges could be brought to me by other bridges.
Other pieces of the sky, the day and a string of the night.

— —

“The Bridge” is a visual art collection gifted to my father. My father is a bridge designer behind bridge development and solving technical issues related to them. I was always interested in his work and the way bridges worked. But then as I grew up and traveled and grew apart from friends and family across the world, bridges gained metaphorical significance. The Persian text that is scattered on the page is in shape of my father’s bridges, with the word “father” in Farsi, my mother tongue.

Being excited about bridges changed the way I looked outside the car. I’m always curious about the dynamic of a bridge, and how it makes my stomach feel when the altitude begins to fall. I also have a strange feeling of knowing which part of a familiar bridge I am in the car when I close my eyes. It must be because I remember how the car moves on that specific part of the bridge. It’s like napping on a car ride home and knowing where you are based on the turns of the car. This collection is my little gift to my father, who gave me the gift of appreciating people and places with poetry.

- Rahil Najafabadi