The Chorus (A poem for those of us always trying to get ahead.)

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Chorus:
The long time of loud striving
the symbols of success
keeping time in my head
always a quarter b-b-beat behind.

I came to a labyrinth in the woods.
I was there for a holiday
that was really a funeral
that became my birth-day.

A priest had made a labyrinth in the woods.
"Anyone can walk it," he said.
Labyrinths need to be walked.
So I entered the outer ring and all I could hear was the Chorus.

Chorus:
The long time of loud striving
the symbols of success
keeping time in my head
always a quarter b-b-beat behind.

How can I hear now?
How can I hear now?

Determination is a song that never ends.
I want to get over there!
I sang, in earnest.
I have a goal and it’s
the center of the labyrinth!

But I can’t hear how to get there from here.

Chorus:
The long time of loud striving
the symbols of success
keeping time in my head
always a quarter b-b-beat behind.

And then I heard
My step!
My stepping.
Step. Step.
I looked down at all I
had
then and there.
Two feet.
One at a time.
Punctuating on pine needles
and birch bark
between history
and tomorrow
and I heard it:

The sound of Now.
Now is always here
I am the beat
at the center of no time.

And now there is a new chorus,
in step with the beat
of my birth-day.


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