by Patricia Owens
(Valley Stream, NY)
So many turns in this labyrinth
So few straight lines to the heart of it
Each twist can lead to an ending
or the continuing of the journey inward.
Round and round the greenish shape I pace
my eyes fixed on the waning and waxing moon
my bare feet in the sacred space
advancing step by step until the core is before me,
the clearing where all is silent except for distant singing.
And I know I’ve arrived.