Today's poem is by Paula Cisewski
Fourth Ballad from the Labyrinth
Had to be my own
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
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily!
Home Web Weekly Features Archives About Verse Daily FAQs Submit to Verse Daily
Copyright © 2002-2015 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved