Crumbs

I hunger for the rich unboundedness of a past life,
when I knew the fields of Rumi's paradise.

I search for the sights, sounds and sensations that spilled over,
which once rioted within me, in the raw.

I lust for the sensation of rolling down moist grass on a hill’s back,
dancing with the earth, cheek to cheek.

I chase the wind that washed me over as I surged on a swing,
escaping gravity, only to be caught again.

I yearn for a time when the world had not laid siege on my dreams,
when the protrusions from my body did not get in my face.

Can I will my memories to cling onto the shreds of my being,
swirling and curling in tiny tiny helical homes.

Can this dream of a past not be my destiny?
and the cookie not grow old and crumble.