Entering the Philosphers Labyrinth

I enter the philosopher's labyrinth in the middle of the night, awoken by a phone call about my brother's whereabouts.

Even though it was not the first time, I left my dream sleep and started worrying, wandering and wondering about his whereabouts.......passing through the tight narrow passageways that lead to the enclosed rooms marked "More Worries!" and "Worst Possible Scenarios!!" I took a quick right and found that well worn bench in the softly lit room with candles, the room that emanates trust and hope. I've sat there many times before and I let the soft glow fill me as I leave to wander unmarked passageways..

But first the phone calls to places known and unknown. I called the girlie strip club my brother frequents and no way would the guy who answered look for him. ( maybe I was a wife in disguise??) The overnight police man taking calls at the first precinct was practical and reassuring. He told me Not to go downtown and related briefly the chaos of a Friday night downtown complete with fights and stabbing. He reassured me and told me that as hard as it was I should just wait...but to first call HCMC emergency room..
After a few tries I got through. The lights in the Worry room inside the philosophers labyrinth were blinking neon....Well, I thought if I have to go down to the emergency room...as my friend said my blood pressure would hardly go up!!  having been there so many times before. No my brother was not there.
 I followed the policeman's advice and waited. I refilled my hot water bottle and rested against its comforting warmth as I drifted in a dream like trance up and down the hallways and narrow byways of the philosophers labyrinth..wondering and wandering.....
knowing that the temperature outside was way below zero tonight and would my brother be okay??? In the small open air courtyard I set my prayers heavenward, like small birds flying to the divine, hoping and trusting he was okay.

Drifting into the cold night I did not sleep and almost dreamt...remembering his long trip across the country back in 1979 and 1980 when I was far away and we really did not know where he was as he hitchhiked and painted and survived. His paintings from that time have a certain look, of being made against huge odds with light slanting off a house in New Mexico and reflections in water of people on a dock  off the California coast remaining as testimony to that time.

I wonder eyes wide open what has happened...and then indeed time with its heavy boots tramping up and down the bare linoleum halls does pass.

I make a hesitant call at 4:30 am to where Wallace lives and then find out a mere 10 minutes later, that yes, he is home and fine. I sigh a deep sigh of relief...calling the dear policeman again, someone who has cast me a lifeline of support as the sharks of worry circled around me.....yes, I call him to thank him and he tells me he's kept the notes in front of him and that he did call the strip club to page my brother...( he'd left by that time) and he thanks me for the update. I thank him, knowing that the night brings all kinds of drama for him, that is all in a night's work....

I drift into a deep sleep and awake at noon. It's cold outside and by the time I go outside to renew my ice sculptures it is past 2 o'clock.
I almost slip on the ice but quickly regain my footing as I bring the frozen pieces out to the place by the front sidewalk. There I arrange the frozen pieces into some kind of harmony, some kind of frozen offering to this moment of gratitude, of being able to sleep late, drink coffee and attend to my ordinary routines....
the sun is shining now on the frozen earth casting long purple shadows...I muse on last night's adventure of care and concern, glad to leave the inner twists and turns of the philosophers wondering wandering labyrinth..knowing that life will bring more opportunities to wonder and wander there again soon.