Nowhere in Particular
From the Labyrinth

Considering the world
is all within the walls
remade in shadow and light.
Love is always a resonance,
music of an unknown sound
to hear the song
before it is sung.

The thread of silk unwound
within the monster mouth
and down to the growl
of devouring all in sight.
Opening my mind’s eye,
I keenly feel the shadows
of a hand that searches
for the way unseen.

A confusing fear of loss
so far so familiar, the question.
that leads through prospects
of nowhere but by suggestion
named neither here nor there,
not yet free of the need
for the way of seeing
another sight of the same,
the colour of fresh wounds.
In here there are no seasons
but a recurring line uncoiled,
a trail of her thoughts to follow.

To find her before the beast within
the end of life where prowls the body,
every echo mocking the heart.
I am warned this may not go well.

 
Geoffrey Heptonstall is the author of a novel, Heaven’s Invention [Black Wolf 2017]. His poetry has appeared in many publications nationally and internationally.