The Maze

The self is standing at the entrance of the maze

Straight and righteous and sure of itself.

It will map the maze, draw hypotheses

Deduce and predict.

It will uncover all the hidden places

Clear the path from the luxuriant vegetation

and find its fleeting animalistic counterpart.

It will catch the little faun

and peel each of its leaves away,

Deciphering its muddy secrets.

Categorizing, classifying, understanding.

Once the little faun is bare and unveiled

The self will dress it with proper clothes

Civilize it and teach it the rules.

How it should behave, how it should live.

First step in the maze.

The autumn breeze travels through the branches

Playing the leaves, listening to its own song.

The fresh blow slams on the self’s face

Stealing its breath, whispering to its ears

“You are vulnerable, stop lying to yourself”.

The self is unsettled but continues its path.

A little wind should not have such impact.

It can see its game, it is just pairing with darkness

and the enclosure of nature.

The self keeps going.

The dirt trail is disappearing in swampy pit.

The dark water is seeping through its boots.

It realizes too late that its legs are made of salt,

Slowly dissolving in the water.

Diffusing in the morass,

The self steadily awakens to its feels.

The vibrations of a giant heartbeat

Resonate through every cell of its being.

The sense of entirety fills it.

It is getting lost in the whole

Diffusing through the flowers of love

The thorns of jealousy

The sturdy trees of courage.

It finds the completeness of being,

The salt of living,

The joys and sorrows of feeling.

It understands now,

The words were wrong, the rules were death.

The little faun is the maze.