Here, the thread woven in my ancestors’ veil
which I am unweaving for you
the thread gold and read
as promised
in which I've spun myself, my whole land
the very stone underfoot
it will lead you to safety
they say
through the labyrinth bequeathed by my ancestors

through your own labyrinth.

Oh, the joy, the playfulness, the terror
of being face to face
on the threshold of the Minotaure
you and I
mirroring one another
to infinity

Here, my offer
that I do not quite understand
- let it glide
from my warm hand into yours

the promised thread red and golden
as silky as a sleeping serpent
as smooth as the horizon
that revolves in its sleep
for you to reach the hungry beast
in the labyrinths of the heart