Today's poem is by Paula Cisewski

Fourth Ballad from the Labyrinth

Had to be my own
Ariadne. Forgot
the string. Boo hoo.

Through and through and through
the unlit corridors, one begins
to feel like a needle

drawing a thread through fabric
so that the entire pilgrimage
darkly fastens to the pilgrim.

Had gone in to vanquish a monster.
Tripped over a priest on his knees.
I am not a reliable light source, I apologize, though

this is no epiphany. Had previously believed I could
bring any necessary epiphany on myself
(by being a good enough person or whatever).

Pitch dark, I couldn't know how
much labyrinth was left, and I already wanted
to sit down and forget. I didn't.

From somewhere, I heard singing, not
my singing nor anybody's I knew
and reminded myself song is only

one of many ways to remember others.
In this situation, not being alone is not
necessarily a "sign" (or safer).

I became so profoundly lost that I began to feel
slightly bioluminescent, slightly
deep sea, possibly transparent, possibly.

Copyright © 2015 Paula Cisewski All rights reserved
from Conduit
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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