In Turn, You Conquered

I came to you
upon a condor with silver wings
roaring through the shadows
and the terraces where you
rose and fell.

I came to you
intending to follow
in the footsteps of your conquerors
learned in the ignorance of black and white
at the tip of my tongue.

I came to conquer
your chiseled stone walls
while peering through the
innermost portions
of your souls.

I came to dance
with scribes who once tread
your slate and granite paths
that agonize and writhe
beneath our chemical soles.

So you wept for me
and in turn you conquered me.

You came to me
in black and white
through words your memory
afflicted on some other soul.

You came to me
as a vibration across vast oceans
and as memories of centuries
through the spoken and the visual
all but silenced.

You came to conquer
our spirits that lie trapped
in the crevices of your stones
beneath your terraces
above your clouds
forever entranced by
ancient organic beauty.