First, a tale of sacred synchronicity:
When I went to New York City in mid-July, both my poetry and I
were very well received. I knew without question I was in the right place
at the right time, doing exactly the right thing.
Shifting easily into the city vibe, my Inner Urban Easterner came out to play
and I gobbled up every possible sensation. Yum!
On my last evening with my divine hostess Jane, my mouth opened and asked,
“Are there any labyrinths in New York City?”
The Internet guided me to two, including the one you see above.
The Labyrinth for Contemplation was created at Battery Park at the
lower tip of Manhattan — south of the World Trade Center site and
just across the harbor from the Statue of Liberty.
Jane and I made plans to visit on Thursday, July 12,
before I made my way to the airport and then westward to Colorado.
I had worked with a designer to create printed versions of 12 of my poems,
which were offered “by donation” at the Poetry Reading earlier that week.
I felt inspired to take two of the poems with me, so I did.
After walking the labyrinth, we sat on a bench near a woman eating lunch.
“Jane,” I whispered. “I think that woman is here to receive some poetry.”
Walking barefoot across the grass and laid stones,
I placed two poems on the ground, at the base of the smallish tree
toward the top of the picture, at the entrance to the labyrinth.
Each poem was on heavy paper, protected by a clear sleeve;
I laid a few sticks and stones atop them in case the wind kicked up.
I knew the poems might end up in a trash can or
blown out onto the street or stepped upon by dirty shoes.
Yet I also knew that I had followed my higher guidance,
doing exactly the right thing in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.
It was just before noon on Thursday, July 12, 2012.
I left New York City that evening and returned home,
heading out again the next week for a getaway to Santa Fe, New Mexico.
On Friday, July 20, at 6:29pm, I received this breathtaking email from Laura D:
Thank you for your beautiful poem, This Fragile Web.
I found it tucked into the nook of a branch of the tree at the entrance
to the Battery Park Labyrinth on the 3 month anniversary of my mother’s passing.
I had gone there to tidy up the Labyrinth because she was the unofficial Guardian
of the Labyrinth and cleaned it every week. She loved it so much.
As she lay dying I promised her that I would continue her tradition and so I have.
How magical and perfect to find your poem there that day on Friday, July 13th.
And she left this planet on Friday, April 13th.
I was so overcome reading your poem that I knelt down to the earth to weep
and then noticed there nestled in the roots of the tree a heart shaped stone
very similar to one my mother had given me years ago
after I had been in a near fatal auto accident.
Fragile we are, indeed!
Thank you again.
This is only the beginning of the story – and then comes the invitation.