I wrote this poem last summer during my eventful first visit to the Benet Hill Monastery in Colorado Springs.
Labyrinths are meditative walks, this one in particular took about twenty minutes. It was a warm afternoon, and I was nestled in a pine tree forest.
There were flowers in the path and no people in sight. It was an otherworldly experience I had to have twice. If you’ve never visited a labyrinth or taken a meditative walk, this is your nudge.
you’re not going to believe this
it’s raining in the labyrinth
there’s one way in and one way out
the buried will surface, the lost found
I ask God
do we make meaning because we evolved to make it?
or do we evolve because all of this means something?
I wait for an answer
labyrinth, journey to nowhere
leading me back to where I began
tapping into the wisdom we all have as children
when we easily knew the hero and villain
as I walk, I find myself dancing
joy is a spring from within
found in movement and freedom
is this true any moment I need them?
again, I ask God
if you are good, he can’t suddenly be gone, right?
if you are good, there has to be more to death than meets the eye?
I wait for an answer
is this whole thing a labyrinth?
one way to go in time,
walking paths that wind and bend,
arriving at the same end
is this whole thing a labyrinth?
the ego refuses to believe it
but we all get paid at the end of the day
and the secret? it’s the same
as I go, i scream at the church I love:
you can’t earn it!
grace is free, and so are you!
heaven is here, and hell is too!
my soul, still shouting to no one:
stop oppressing each other!
stop excluding each other!
stop rebuking each other, recruiting us in your misery!
as I walk, I ask the ones I came from:
in the name of what god do you condemn us?
for all of our inclusion and love?
in our fight for what’s just?
these must be my buried questions
for God and the church
my face is wet from tears and the rain
on the surface, they’re the same
this picture of now
is the truth of what is
move forward, look around, say prayers, make friends
and celebrate when this part comes to an end
and then I hear it
as if on cue
the final corner rounding
She tells me now because I’m listening:
you are not in this, you are of this
in image and likeness
there’s so much goodness
you’re not going to believe this