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The Looking
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I Am Your Labyrinth
I'm your Labyrinth
Hidden softness, never spoken of,
Never wishing to be spoken.
This silence hides other things,
Like receptive bullrushes and dying crows,
Cracked ice in sunshine,
An oar out of season,
Incantations singing stillness,
Elation colors the moon.
My mouth is deranged and dry.
The first from helplessness,
The second from lying,.
Tenderness stops no pain,
Cessates no decay of this form,
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Crystalline and pure,
Then misshapen, grotesque:
Undecided, always a question,
Like a god who waits.
This human form goes away,
Disintegrates, transposed by fate.
The unknown voice speaks the dark:
'I'm your labyrinth
The one divined in every way
I watch the knidness of time
A transparent bridge eternal
Like a mime moving slowly'
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