In The Labyrinth

Yesterday afternoon I was walking the labyrinth at the same time as Kate, another member of our group. As our paths crossed, she bowed to me and did namaste. It was a powerful evocation of a previous occasion, when I had been walking the labyrinth in the snow and another Friend made the same gesture to me as she was entering the labyrinth.

That earlier experience resulted in an unexpected poem for me. This week we were asked to bring something to share (a reading or music or film clip or something from any faith tradition) that spoke to us of our aspiration for an authentic spiritual life. So it seemed meant that I should share my poem with them.

In The Labyrinth

In the labyrinth
There are no wrong turns
And no dead ends.

Each step brings you on
Inevitably, inexorably,
Towards your destination

Which, tantalisingly,
Appears, disappears, then re-appears
As the path winds its sinuous course

Around and back and forth
And away, unexpectedly,
From where you think you ought to be.

But there is no need for hurry.
You will get there in the end
And all shall be well
And all manner of things shall be well.

The footprints in the snow affirm this.
You are not the first to walk this path
And will not be the last.

In the distance a friend approaches,
Beginning her journey as I am ending mine.
We greet each other prayerfully: Namaste.