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Enter a Labyrinth
The scent of wild onions lines the path of a labyrinth. I pluck a wild gold dandelion, hold it by its shorn head — a harbinger of summer on a cool, spring day. The shedding of self into an awareness of God: the twists and turns of a graveled path, the crunch of crushed rock beneath sandaled feet. In the center round, contemplation blessed by the sun's unobstructed radiant warmth. A unity, a oneness with the Maker of the universe. I offer in sacrifice the burdens that laden my heart, that sear my mind. I set down carefully before the Father each worldly concern that frets my existence. Whole, I trace the path of understanding into enlightenment. Bruised wild onions offer incense, wafting into a breeze— ascending into the heights of heaven, an aroma of praise. Liberation. Hands raise in joy with the spin of a final turn. The steps traced complete. I am released.
The use of a labyrinth for meditation, prayer, contemplation was much more common in a previous century. This poem inspired by one on the grounds of a retreat center...unfortunately, one that has succumbed to urban spawl. The memory remains.
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