Quoth the Son of Pasiphaë

{ Denise gracefully hosts Six Sentence Stories, where writers unleash their magic under one simple rule: in no more or no less than 6 sentences.
This week’s prompt word is : LABYRINTH

A Tale from the Six Sentence Café & Bistro, continuing From Womb To Tomb }

INTRO

Ladies & Gentlemen,
Welcome to the halls of this Labyrinth.

In front of you there are two doorways:
the one to your right is the usual reading procedure…scroll and read (maybe) till the end, interact (maybe) upon leaving…and that is fine!

This day though, allow me to offer the door to your left;
this one aims to an enhanced experience and as such requires (minimum yet essential) participation from your part.

Whatever your choice may be, I hope your visit will be worthy of your time.

Left door: the following song is named Song of Sol by Lustmord & Karin Park.
For the purpose of our journey into the Labyrinth,
we shall rename it as Ariadne’s Lament.

Press play.
Do not start reading.
Close your eyes …you will know it is time to open them when you hear the voice of Ariadne.
Now start reading…slowly.
When you encounter … between sentences, pause; breathe deeply & let the echoes of the words ring inside, then continue.

Are you ready?

//\\//\\

Quoth the Son of Pasiphaë

Dithyrambos: for ancient Hellenes the word signified “the one of the double door”, meaning the one who survived the miracle of a Second Birth.

ɸ

…once there was a tomb, the tomb became a womb…
…Hurry not child, offered the son of Pasiphaë.

Quest for answers to the center brought thee, in the Labyrinth there is no right nor wrong, no left lives, only you and your folly;
Come, sit beside me child and listen to what I say, uttered the son of Pasiphaë.

Ariadne is left on the shore to die, cast away by the hand of the one she helped escape;
Ariadne is hung by her own thread, abandoned by the one she helped escape…spoke the son of Pasiphaë.

Son of Pasiphaë, apotropaic thee, in cyclopean walls of the Labyrinth I entered…told I was, an abomination I would find, yet I find none; slay you must I was taught yet slay I should none but the Fear who keeps buried the golden seeds of a life still unfulfilled; thought I did to be alone, yet before me carved All is One.

…

Child, quoth the son of Pasiphaë, if I am your last breath of air,
what will you do of me – will you sing, will you laugh or will you cry?

…

To love is to cry, to be loved is to sing, to understand is to laugh at your certainty…all in one breath, I answered to the son of Pasiphaë;

wet, in pain I emerge from the tomb that became my womb,
laughing & crying my eyes open in a new light…can it be…

…are these balloons floating over on the horizon?

ɸ

My Labyrinth from 2015.

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