Lunch with Borges

I was reading Borges at lunch. He has an interest in labyrinths. Somehow I started thinking about the limitations of our knowledge of neurology. We cannot trace the path of a single line of thought with anything like assurance.

The labyrinth is in the brain.

The twisting turning strands defy
easy mapping of the chains
of logic that from deep inside
seem clear as crystal, plain as rain.