The sun has risen and set many times

since I got lost in your maze of thorns.

Within your scratchy walls, I did find myself.
We have come full circle, you and I.
Standing outside your fortress,

I now find myself reaching in.
Holding the vision
and the hands of carefree children.
It is there, I find myself, once again.

Standing on a concrete foundation, I find myself

watching you tumble down the street.
Your journey, not done.
With each lift and spin,
you give yourself away.
Released seeds, now wind’s fate.

Roots digging deeper
with each passing season.
Rare desert rains did fall,
replenishing and nourishing
your life and the earth.

Winds made you strong.
The sun, although intense,
allowed you to exist,
and taught you resilience.

Then one day,

you detached
from your roots
and tumbled away.

The desert does have its own beauty, but I can’t hug…