Hedge Maze

Misplaced, stuck in a maze I’ve found myself in
I think I see a loved one ahead
disappearing around the corner

I race to catch them 
but I turn around the thick green corner
brushing against it with a rustle
and I can’t see their outline ahead anymore
all I see is green and shadow
down the leafy corridor 

I remember that I’m ultimately alone in this place
in this maze that has two exits, I’m trying to find my way
away from the one that leads to emptiness and hurt
and instead to the one with peaceful goodbyes on the other side 

I run my fingers through the leafy walls as I walk
ignoring the occasional thorn
deep in thought, echoed by birds overhead
in their trills that somehow
make them sound like they understand me

I never asked to be here

I whisper quiet words
lines, stanzas born from
scattered and disjointed gray connections
the birds continuing to chirp and trill in response
somehow encouraging

Maybe they’re telling me that poetry
can guide me to where I want to be

Maybe it can lead me out of here
to where I can believe all the good things
people are telling me

I want to see the world and want it again

I want to listen when they say they love me
and believe again

I want to think about what I am
and want to live forever again

I turn the next corner, after them
where they seemed to vanish:
the maze continues — this was no dead end
and I feel I may not be so alone here after all
once I see their footprints in the soft earth
and the carefully placed pebbles left on the ground
as chevrons pointing the way 

The chirping birds echo my excitement
as if to assure me I’m on the right path
and I gain confidence in my stride
following the guides left for me
trying to find my way

.

July 13, 2025; afternoon

(Inspiration drawn from Why Read Poetry if it Won’t Make You Rich by Joy Sullivan, and a precious friend.)