Golden Gate

I crossed the golden gate today
Above the churning, hostile sea.
And with a pen and paper, I
Did write the thoughts that came to me.

How many souls have crossed this span?
How many architects did plan;
When raising, how many did die;
And how many at home did cry?

Before it was, did no one cross;
Or did they, to ensuing loss?
Does it the landscape now disface;
Or rather does it add its grace?

How many have their lives destroyed
By plummeting into the void?
How many others does it save;
By carrying above the wave?

I will the trestle now traverse,
As honor do I give in verse.
For I need only question why,
To build the thing I need not try.