Between Us

when you find this
we will be alone
in a place known only to us
where time has no bound
nor takes measure
of moments spent in silence
where words unite
two as one
you in me
I in you

Simple Pleasures

what we enjoy
is bad for us

that least desired
is good to use

the balance is
cruel compromise

constricting the senses
quelling restless quests

simmering in every breast
never at rest

restraining what lies
within easy reach

is harsh and mean
becoming more as

time narrows the partition
between opposing poles

less though more we
gain in moments rare

of joy and bliss in
pursuit of simple things

Raindrop

in a silver bauble
suspended by a thread
I view a panorama
through the lens
of a parabola
moments before it joins others
nestled in
pillows of clouds
clustered in a pool

Crystals

fragile white crystals
light enough to lift

lithe enough to loft drift
and flit on whim of wind

carried far beyond the place
from whence they came

to settle beneath above
and around us

cradled between hands
admired in moments

transparent and light
as white could be

Sarah's Birthday

you are to me
what yesterday was
to today before
tomorrow has a name

you move through me
without touching

being without speaking
as silence is to song

in words sung from
the one that makes me sing

What Remains

all that remains
after rancor dies
is the silent
dignity of words

what remains after
passion is spent
is the humble
admission of emptiness

Ought of Naught

a zero
makes a
circle where
the sum
of a
whole should
be

the ought
of naught
drawing a
line joining
ends around
an imaginary
center

gathering all
of nothing
into one
place

Raindrop

in a silver bauble
suspended by a thread
I view a panorama
through the lens
of a parabola
moments before it joins others
nestled in
pillows of clouds
clustered in a pool

Union

we join hands
music flows
softly between us

an endless stream
of silent song
without beginning
or end

breathless
in the silence
between us

On Single Wing

a ragged dragonfly
or two perhaps
in midair mate
ride on air
gliding effortlessly
on gentle currents
beneath the spreading canopy
of a gnarled beech tree
soaring in arcs
merging with late
afternoon light
at one in flight
circling weaving touching
down resting
as a scrap of torn leaf
rustling about searching
for a ride
on freedom’s flight
catching a draft
up and away
out and around
dancing in interlacing orbs
floating down
until it rests
as one among us

Should You Pass This Way

should you pass
this way
all would seem
as it was
when time could be
taken to wonder
wishes had no limits
and dreams
found a place
to dwell beyond fear
the source
of all things
soft gentle and supple

It Makes No Difference

it makes no difference
if you get up late
(or not at all)
can’t find your pants
wear different socks
miss your bus
walk in the rain
lose your way
come to work
do nothing but complain

it makes no difference
no one will know
who you are
what you do
or what you have done
who or what you know
(or don’t know)

it makes no difference
what you believe
think or say
no one will listen or care
if you tell the truth or lie
about what you do
(alone..... in the dark)

it makes no difference

David Sermersheim