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In Cadence of Rhyme

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In Cadence of Rhyme

I am always so less demanding
After crossing the bridge of understanding,
Where I can meet myself on the other side,
Folding in upon me just like the tide.

For what a mixture that makes—
Me, myself, and I, all our mistakes
Spilled out upon the checkered floor…
Yet always wanting something more.

Or perhaps something a little less,
For when I do pen to then confess,
I can be a little bit much,
Needing maybe a subtler touch.

But that is how it always goes
When the ink begins all its flows,
In every different direction,
As if late for some resurrection.

While I seek to come to terms
With both the sea and the berms,
Sand dunes built up by time
Join me in cadence of rhyme.

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