A riddle

Two wooden gangways
Jutting out onto the waters
Identical in every way, and yet…

Boats have long since ceased to come
What once arrived every day
No more the fisher’s poles and traps
Come to reap the bountiful bay

Yet there they are, rising still
Above the water, bridging bounds
Between the worlds of water and land
Lapped by waters gentle sounds

No difference between them can be discerned
Solve this riddle young acolyte and you’ll become
The bridge of all that was ever begun



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