The Labyrinth

Le premier labyrinthe j’ai marchée et j’ai vu est Le Labyrinthe du Cathédral de Notre
Dame en Chartres 
J’entends ma voix dans tous les bruites de la monde
You enter with all the dead who have entered the dark before
The souls that continued to enter further to meet their demise
mysteriously the labyrinth appears
Whenever the voices, 
infiltrate
my mind
Boisterously
barraging
the cacophony besiegement 
begins 
The center magnetizes me
I cross over many times 
during one walk 
with the labyrinth
I’ve been walking labyrinths for 3000 years
Identical patterns 
surge from my mind 
across the world
The energy from the ground will cure the ailments of my body
For if I fail to shed the skin
With each new turn the labyrinth takes
I begin to rot in the corps
of sickly flesh
with BARABUTUS
Like that of an invasive vine…
He roots himself inside me
Suffocating me from the inside out

Contemplation
Cycles of life itself and ideologies
Weaving the basket that tells the story of me
Each turn is a shedding that skin must come off
My ancestors in Wicklow, Jericho
Under the 7th sisters curse
I meet the pinecone in the center,
I become the blue virgin unearthed

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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