The director said that he might have chosen
a different title,
something from Tolkien perhaps,
like “Long and Winding Road”.

This, he said that about your first
rather lengthy,
pennitently exhaustive,
and thoroughly repleat-
with-failure attempt
at a spiritual autobiography.

Although none have yet to explain
to you just what might be the difference
between an autobiography
and a spiritual autobiography,
you go on writing them trusting that
so long as you’re breathing
and searching for a truer understanding
of reality than you had
in the preceeding moment,
you have been called to do so.

You don’t know what to make of his suggestion
now that the road has been
much longer and much more tightly wound,
but spiration has a way of inhaling and exhaling in vortices.

You prefer this title: “Labyrinth”.
Certainly other contemplatives already have.

And now, so much longer down the road
wound around and back and around again,
you find yourself at the center,
that is, at the wound
where winding
becomes a pain of joy.

With the Center who holds.
In the Center and listening
amidst the silence
to Him.
those voices united through Him.

United only to Him,
you ask Him,

“my dear Lord,
now that You have brought me here,
what would you that I ought
since I, here with you,
remember so many
but find too few
united here
with you?”