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.

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