Searching in Ruins (Poem)

(inspired by Maya Angelou)

I, too, have held onto frigid hands,
Looked into the coldest eyes and begged them to warm me,
Sweet jasmine fragrance in my nose and in my head,
And I could imagine the notion was shared, handed across through wind.

The ever-searching gaze, the quiet flame,
The honeyed glaze of my memory on hard gravel.
I cannot judge you because I am you,
Wanderer who will wander 'til last breath.

Your choice is a city you create with your heart,
A sandcastle on a gusty, crowded beach
I hope you make your wish quickly, my friend.
I hope the wind blows softly on this afternoon.

-D.