We Never Stop Longing
Soon we fall, we lose our way
the markers on the path we forged
stolen, or misplaced. We forget, but
we never stop longing.
We wish, but
we never stop hoping.
Then, once again
we find it: the door that opens
upon the moment.
Too quickly we've fallen
pushed by circumstance or invading memory
and we wander aimlessly in confused wonder
circling the area where we last smelled the opening
like ants after the cake is removed
wishing hoping longing