Labyrinth walk again, in the same big old Mellon church. Today a celebration of labyrinths, I will walk all three First, a Chartres eleven-circuit labyrinth, Outdoors in the “garth,” a ground cloth on flagstones. The purple-edged loops appear to meander, back and forth among the quadrants. The path still seems a mystery. The summer sky, at least, is unadorned uncomplicated by a single cloud. Overhead leaves slightly soften the sun, their silhouettes on the cloth below. In the center, five petals, a multi- Leafed clover with a single stem To enter and leave. Surrounding stone and arching windows silently watch . I sit when I reach the center, and know I’ve come half way, before going back into the tightly wound loops, with no discernable marker to show how far you’ve come or how far to go.. The harpist supports the walkers with song, from Pachelbel to the Beatles, I remember “In This Life.” A siren in the streets around the church, A sound to drown the gentle harp. This is East Liberty. Then it fades. Next, a labyrinth inside, in the chancel of the sanctuary that would hold a , which swallows sound and the sunlight filtering through high windows. Walking meditation, barefoot and silent, clear the mind! Last, another large Chartres layout in the two-story social hall below ground level with uncounted candles, light enough Quiet, not silent, with chairs Near the entrance. I find old friends with new business. I walk, then softly talk. This is my slow stepped commencement To mark an end and a beginning: jobless, rethinking my career at 58. Have I choices? Or are choices Illusion, loops in the labyrinth: No maze, and the eventual exit certain. Just walk. One foot in front of the other, again and again, Like peace walks and picket lines, soon you’ll arrive.