Don't we two hearts oft seem to tread
on common sands? A common thread
appears to bind with no great dread,
with not a word, between us, said.
The rhythm of your ebb, my flow,
as fate takes us where we might go,
so coincide, suspicions grow-
is there some plot we can't yet know?
Your face I see, in maddened crowd,
with silence that echoes aloud.
If coincidence, I'm wowed-
if cosmic hand, it should be proud.
As subtle as sand on the wake,
who knows where next our waves will break?
Adrift on currents we both take-
The Cosmos makes no such mistake.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 8:32 PM UTC
Don't we two hearts oft seem to tread
on common sands? A common thread
appears to bind with no great dread,
with not a word, between us, said.
The rhythm of your ebb, my flow,
as fate takes us where we might go,
so coincide, suspicions grow-
is there some plot we can't yet know?
Your face I see, in maddened crowd,
with silence that echoes aloud.
If coincidence, I'm wowed-
if cosmic hand, it should be proud.
As subtle as sand on the wake,
who knows where next our waves will break?
Adrift on currents we both take-
The Cosmos makes no such mistake.
Request permission to use this poem