Mysnikol Miller

The Center Stone

The Stone remembers fear and falling, 
but from where remains unclear.
Human spirit claiming her place 
in the labyrinth's center 
where the stone landed abruptly. 
Was this the moment her soul appeared?

Tall and Black. 
Warm and smooth. 
Sculpted by good and trouble. 
Released bits of herself are scattered about, 
holding no meaning, 
best left to rubble.

A familiar stone stands near, 
once part of the whole, 
now sharing the space 
yet beautifully separate. 
So inspiring, sweet, and kind. 
Not competing,
Completing.

The stone feels the earth turning.  
The consistent sameness of change.  
Cycle upon cycle.
Repeating.
Repeating

Many enter the labyrinth, 
drawn toward the energy center. 
They peel away thick layers 
of their protective shell 
at each repeating turn on their journey.  
Shed the unconscious, smart talk, born in ignorance. This is not the place.

If you listen, you learn.  
She speaks in a quiet voice. 
It’s the words that have volume. 
“Lean into me.  I may push back, 
but never away. 
Help me see you.  See me”

The joy is deep, honest connection.
Humans humanizing humanness.
Peace in this space.

Connection without correction.
“You do you.  That’s cool”
Accepting without expecting…much.