Trilogy of Poems
Some Amazingly Beautiful Things Can Come Out Of Some Terrible Times
Serendipity
What were the chances of us meeting at all?
Serendipity.
What were the odds of us finding each other once more?
Slim.
There are forces at work here we don't understand.
And I say let the mystery be, and just be.
Yes there are doubts, fears, worries.
I have them too.
You fear disappointing me,
and I, of disappointing you.
Which would be the greater risk of loss.
End it now just because.
Or let us float with worries tossed.
We've both failed at love before.
But never with each other.
Perhaps that's why we failed.
Suppose we were meant to fail,
so we could be together.
Theo 07/13/15
Serendipity II
We met when we were young.
Us, not ready to become.
Several years of separate lives.
And a friendship still survives.
What were the chances of us meeting again.
during these terrible times.
What were the odds of us finding each other, twice more.
Unfathomable.
There are forces at work here we don't understand.
And I say let the mystery be, and just be.
Yes, there are doubts, fears, worries.
You have them, but I do not.
You still have fears of disappointing me.
My fears are gone,
lost in the amazingly beautiful sea.
Which would be the greater risk of loss.
End it again, just because.
Or let us float with worries tossed.
We've both failed at love before.
But never with each other.
Perhaps that is why we failed.
Suppose we were meant to fail.
So that we could be together.
Richard 05/12/2020
Magnificent Obsession
You have become my magnificent obsession.
A constant allure without need of possession.
No changes required—no time for concessions.
But completely open to share my confessions.
I think of you constantly as I feel the weather.
You are with me as I walk to the ocean.
I am here alone, and yet we are here together.
Something so magnificent set in motion.
Sixty-seven and sixty-eight.
Here and now, not too late.
Sixty-eight and sixty-seven.
Matches perhaps, made in heaven.
Set on fire by my desire.
A beautifully bright burning yearning.
No need for thinking required.
An all-out time, of free form learning.
Unlike anything I have ever felt before.
No need to analyze to feel that I’m sure.
The proof exudes from inside your magnificent core.
Your soul speaks to me with a soft, gentle roar.
05/17/2020 Richard Ebner is the writer of this trilogy of poems
