The Labyrinth
in blog on 06.19.2020

I enter its carefully lined path
neither precise, nor perfect and so it is
circuitous, meandering, purposeful
it beckons without agenda
dusty and worn, my shoes carry the scent of piñon
my slow, methodical steps begin to blend with my breath
left I inhale, right I exhale
thoughts are subdued
the sun rises over the peak, my shadow arrives
is that my step or my breath?
they’ve become indistinguishable
finally, I am home