First Snow, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

First Snow

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

The sky says:

Shh—Listen.

 

Hear that?  No?

Good.

 

Close your eyes,

Listen more.

 

Hear that? No?

Good.

 

That silence

Is there

For a reason.

 

Grab a coat,

Step outside,

Open your arms,

Lift your face to the sky.

 

Hear that?

Good.  Feel that?

Good.  That is

The reason, that is–

Such marvelous,

Dazzling stillness;

Such exquisite

Calm, such soothing

Kisses from winter’s

Hushed lips.

 

Breathe in, feel that—

That briskness and quickening.

Good.

 

There are

A million reasons,

So many reasons,

Each one crystalline

And delicate, yet

Powerful enough

To quiet the world—

If only for a moment—

If only long enough

For you

 

To feel and to listen

To love’s softening,

To winter’s patient

Blanketing.

 

That silence is there

Not to threaten,

But to assure you

You are alive.

 

As you go back

Inside, to the noise

Of notifications

And important things to do—

You are invited,

You are allowed,

You are known.

 

You are part

Of the wisdom of the sky

That says: shh.

 

first snow buddha

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries.  Thank you for your support. <3


Angel Speak, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Angel Speak

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Every night, a friend

Comes to talk with me,

Carrying word of faraway

And intimately near places.

Sometimes she talks,

Animatedly, with an urgency

Known only to those with important news,

Sometimes she talks

In gently bobbing waves of psychedelia,

Which carry me on their drifting

Clouds to the shores of morning.

Sometimes she chases me

Without a word—just pursuing me

As if I were quarry, sometimes

She drops me, plunging me

Into the day, sweating and panicked.

Even when she appears sinister,

I have come to know she simply wants

To send messages from the soul.

 

And every morning, I wake

And forget everything

She said.  Well, some of it

Lingers for a few moments, like

The scent of honeysuckle in spring;

But eventually, as I dress,

And rustle papers and books,

It fades, or lifts, or blows,

Or flies, or runs

Away.

 

I think sometimes

What if she ached to be known,

To be heard, to be validated, seen?

 

What if she simply wanted

To be there, like

An angel by the riverside.

 

Indeed, what if

All dreams were flocks of angels

Forming grand gestures and landscapes

Of secrets intent on revelation?

 

What if she was trying

To tell me she needed help

Or that the spiritual world

Was in trouble?

 

What if she was trying to tell me

That it’s time, as I sleep

Through my day,

To wake up and start singing?

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries. Thank for your support. <3



Reassembling, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Reassembling

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

You know something.

When everyone rises

From the dead on the first day,

And the dancing starts–

Even as bones are rejoining

With golden bands and golden thread,

The earth will sigh

The deepest sigh—

A sigh like the dawning sun

On a shimmering sea,

And she will weep for all

She gave birth to, for all

She cradled in their death,

For all, who, upon hearing

Mercy’s music, will reassemble

In shifts of light—whirling

Dervishes in a New Jerusalem,

Little galaxies of arms opening

To possibilities—the forgiving ones,

One and all, forgiven

In the dance of deepest sighs.

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries. Thank you for your help. <3


Creating the World, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Creating the World

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Most of us know how

The world around us

Helps shape us—

Our morals, likes

And dislikes, ways of seeing,

How we listen, and to whom.

 

For the sake of this poem, however,

I am not just referring to the world

As society and culture,

And the morays we absorb

So easily and release so stubbornly.

 

I am speaking of the air,

The world-forces of creation,

How we are born into movement,

And how the boundaries

Of skin and bone are sung

Into form as we live, move,

And have our being in the world,

Literally sculpted as we go

By the responsive hands of space.

 

Now, here, as you move,

As you get up from your chair

To walk across the room,

As you go to dress, or eat,

Or kneel in prayer,

As you reach out to a lover

Or to pick up an infant,

Or hand the cashier your change,

Or receive an embrace,

Know, now, here, you

Are sculpting the world.

 

The very space you move

Within-to-with, you shape—

 

The air, the back space

And the many little circles

And planes you walk this day—

Become embodying language;

Your movements create

Form and living paintings

In space and time and breath,

The world responds

To your every movement,

Your every touch, and push;

 

You unfold and color the world–

As you propel forward—

The way parts and blooms around you

As if you were swimming

In a sea of impressionable air—

Because you are.

 

As you live through-with

This day, delineating your space,

Open your movements—

Your arms and the myriad

Of little dances you do,

Widen your gestures, welcome

And invite, give and receive,

Describe space with grace and purpose—

Adorn the world

With you.

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries. Thank you. <3



Gifting the Air, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Gifting the Air

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Everyone knows

We carry air in our bodies,

We know, and occasionally,

Sense it flowing through us,

How it enlivens us

When we focus it into our every cell.

 

And it does so without effort,

Without being invasive,

Without expecting anything

In return.

 

Today, let’s try this:

 

Let’s send out our every word

Upon, within, the air

As gifts—touch the air

With kind words, caress

The evening air with reminiscences

On front porches and strolls

Through the neighborhoods,

Fill the morning air

With prayers and Broadway tunes,

Inspire the night air with dreams

And comforting words of reassurance—knowing

We do all these things

By the power of the air.

 

We all know what happens

When it lifts from us

One last time and searches out

A newborn swallowing

Its first bubble of outside life.

Let us return the grace—

Let us gift the air with words,

And thoughts that dance

In its heart, let us gift the air

With songs that create joy

In the movements of the wind,

Let us fill our every breath

With mercy, compassion,

And a radical empathy

That unfolds across the world

Into other lands, other lungs, other hearts,

Other minds—let us gift the air

With praise.

 

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries.  Thank you so much. <3



If You Become Lost, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

If You Become Lost

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Keep moving,

The road, they say,

Is made by walking,

I know, that sounds

Trite and annoying,

Nevertheless,

It holds true.

 

Think about acorns.

 

I imagine

They haven’t a clue

About what is happening,

Or where they are,

Or where they are going.

Nevertheless,

They go.  I want to

Believe they dream

Of sky and wind and sun

And roots to hold them

As they sway in said sky,

Wind, and sun.

I also think they haven’t

Any idea that their dreams

Are real, on so many

Blessed levels.

 

So, what do they do?

They move inside—

Something unfurls,

Like having the morning

Tucked away within them,

And as this slow, green,

Galaxy of branches opens,

They move outside.  While they may

Not know where

They are going,

They open themselves

To possibilities and roads.

 

Sure, they meet stones,

Rocks, pass worms

And bones, perhaps

Even a sleeping bear or two,

Sure, its dark inside, and outside,

And, for the most part, cold.

Yet, they rise, moving

In ways that remind me

 

If you become lost,

Keep moving.  You may

Not know where

You are going, or

Where your destination

Will be; what skies

You will open up into—

What horizons you will see,

What birds will find safety

In your arms.  The light knows

However.  The light knows

Wherever.  The light knows

Whenever.  The light knows

Whatever.  The light knows

Whyever.  The light knows

Whomever and whichever,

And shiningever, and singingever,

Callingever, lighthousingever,

Lookingforyouever, thewayever,

The nowever, the light knows all

The question words,

The light knows all

The answer words,

The light knows all

The inbetween words,

The light knows all

The unspoken words.

The light knows

You.

The light knows

You carry its child.

The light knows

You will both be born

Again, and again,

Into the way home.

 

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries. <3


A Second Thought, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

A Second Thought

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

You have been with me

Since the beginning

Even though

I no longer remember

The first time

You filled me,

Sending me wailing

From the initial revelation.

From that moment

Until now–

I have rarely given you

A second thought.

 

You enter, touching my nose,

And lips, and then

Filter through me,

Spreading life, only to then

Disappear into my cells.

You make my chest rise and fall,

Ebb and flow, enlivening me

Over and over,

Again, and again,

Moment after moment,

Year after year,

And you do so largely

In relative silence and secret.

 

I think of you when I feel

The need to catch you,

Or hold you, or focus

On you for a guided meditation,

Or watch you ghost out

Of my mouth in winter.

 

You shimmer through me,

I know you are there,

I want you to stay,

Even though one day

You will sail out of my body

For good, onto the billowing winds,

To gently, unobtrusively,

Fill the body of another—

Another who will,

In all likelihood, hardly ever

Give you a second thought.

 

So here, now,

I think of you in as full

Consciousness as I can muster,

I feel you filling my every

Cell and vein with kindness.

Thank you for being

My friend, my guide,

My most intimate companion

On my journey

Of letting you go.

 

 


 

 

All donations go to medical bills and groceries. <3


 

 

 

 


Transcendencies, a Poem to Honor Transgender Day of Remembrance 2017, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

I wrote this poem originally two years ago and is the title poem of my book by the same name.  I have revised it rather drastically, and much more for the better.  I hope it helps celebrate who we are, each other, and our future together.

Love, Jenn

 

 

Transcendencies

A Poem for the Transgender Community

by

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

We are all transcendent,

Shining across space and time in clouds

Of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen and nitrogen;

Each and every one of us transcends

Something, or someone, or somehow

Or someday—just to be able to stand here

In this very moment, catching our breath,

Learning to live–

We all transcend and become—

It is as simple as that.

 

Our blood streams are transoceanic,

Our bodies holy translations of spirit and soul,

Transcribed onto the pages of the world

By an Author who knows us by heart and accepts us as we are.

 

Yes, we are transpierced with pain—

Every day just leaving our house

And wondering if we will be safe—hurts.

Yes, we have been transplanted inside

And for some the ground grows more certain with every step,

While others cannot move out of fear for their lives.

Even as we progress in small ways and big,

Through a series of seemingly never-ending transversals only to find ourselves

Transported into more hatred, ignorance,

And shadow-driven insecurities of so-called, “religious” people—

We are still here—we will not give up.

 

We transilluminate boundaries

That no longer have solid meaning—they never did,

We are waking up to the truth that gender

Is not fixed—it is transmigratory—and no longer the transaxle

Of a tired binary sustained by those who have never even

Taken the time to get to know their own bodies–

Let alone love, or transform them into possibilities without shame—

Even though everything about people like us is transubstantiated

By living, breathing experience and science—for here we are, and yet we are told

We do not exist—We are told we do not deserve to exist—

Even though our lives are based on real, vital, valid, individual,

And continuous transitions of body and spirit,

We are still told we are evil, perversions,

Abominations before god.

 

How many more of us will be murdered by transient-thinking men

Before the world decides it is one more too many?

What makes transphobic people think they can transpose

An already faulty belief system onto us to justify or rationalize

Their unjustifiable and irrational actions and laws?

Do they really think we will not fight back against their genocidal ways?

 

 

My dear trans community, let us help transport one another

And the world, into a time where transcendencies are accepted as commonplace–

It will happen despite their barbaric ideas—

We will not be transfixed by their condemning and weakening gaze—They

Who cannot think past their own shadows—they too

Will be transformed.

We are living transmissions of realities

That shine a light on their small mindedness,

And we are here to stay.

 

We are not here to inspire some kind

Of transcultural revolution—

We ARE a revolution—

Every time we step out into the world

We declare that infinite possibilities exist.

 

Jesus of the transfiguration, came to transmute those who hate

And to set their limited beliefs on fire;

Jesus came to give them a spirit-transfusion to flush out

Both their own self-loathing and their fear of us–

Those of us, steeped in beatitudes and compassion

So deep, and forged by pain and marginalization,

As to be transcribed into living testaments

Of love’s transcendent power—we will inherit the earth.

 

Come, haters, shed your mantles of tissue and weariness,

Shed your tired ideological transparencies, and projections,

And transmigrate with us to a way of living where Jesus reigns

Alongside the mother tree and the transdimensional angels

Singing and dancing for the freedom of all souls.

For you will transpire—perhaps sooner than you want–

Life is transonic, yes, but it is death that comes at the speed of sound—

And when it does you shall be transposed against a backdrop of light

And seen for how you really lived.

 

And we—

We will continue to blossom and unfurl—transcendentalists

Of power—living rainbows moving ever forward—

We will continue to be transcendencies of glory,

And revelations of truth,

We will transcend you, transmogrify you, transverse you—

We will ever be here shining a light on your hypocrisies,

And reveling in the wonder of who we are.

 

And my beloved trans community,

May we transcend our own limited ideas of what it means

To really be trans, may we put an end to policing one another,

And instead accept one another for our transunique journeys.

May we all join forces to transfree ourselves and one another.

For we are all transcendent,

Shining across space and time in clouds

Of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen and nitrogen;

Each and every one of us transcends

Something, or someone, or somehow

Or someday—just to be able to stand here

In this very moment, catching our breath,

Learning to live–

We all transcend and become—

It is as simple as that.

 

 

 


 


All donations from this post will go to TransLifeLine


Saint Malo and the Wrens, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Saint Malo and The Wrens

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

The wren laid her eggs

In the cloak St. Malo had put on the ground

As he pruned his vines.

 

Having finished his daily, self-sustaining work,

He reached down for his cloak and saw mother wren,

And her little clutch of eggs.

 

He marveled that each egg was smaller

Than a grape, that each egg contained wings

And songs as sweet as the melodies of flutes.

 

He stood up, fists draped gently on his hips,

Took his clippings and shears,

And walked slowly back to the monastery,

Smiling as he pondered how the God of all

Cares for mother wren and her sleeping little ones,

And how he, for his part, had accepted the opportunity

To encourage future songs.

 

 

 


 

 


All donations go to medical bills and groceries. <3


Be There, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Be There

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

You may have seen

Those videos where

The camera focuses in

On one person and then

Pans out past the tree tops,

The buildings, the clouds,

And further backwards

Through space, until

The swirling earth

Grows smaller, and smaller,

And smaller,

As the satellite camera

Continues to draw back

Revealing solar systems,

Galaxies, and then more—

The ever-growing universe.

 

 

This amazement of technology

Is meant to show us

Our seeming insignificance

In the grand scheme of things—

How little we are, how tiny our earth is,

How, while we find our rightful

Place among the galaxies,

We are still hugely small, invisible

In the clusters of stars.

 

 

I would argue however,

That you matter; that you,

Standing there on the little space

You take—matter.

 

 

And when winter comes,

And the ground grows cold,

And the trees weep their true

Colors into the streets and rivers,

That if you were to bend down,

And gently place your hand

On the hardening ground

And whisper witnessing words—

Reminding the earth of the life

Dreaming within—

The seeds and sleeping animals—

That it needn’t be afraid,

That it needn’t feel it has failed us,

That it is beautiful and to be honored

For the spring and summer

It so lavishly shared with us,

You would be making a world

Of difference.

 

 

The earth gives, and gives,

And gives, and it rejoices

In doing so, and yet, when winter comes,

And the frost pushes it all down,

You can stay by its bedside of trees

And fallow fields, you can

Sing it soft songs of comfort,

You can tread lightly

Over the steeling ground,

You can remind the earth

With your every breath,

Every act of kindness,

Every prayer,

That the earth will

Resurrect, that it will

Be born again, that it will

Waken from its frightening sleep,

And once again, and again,

And again, bloom, just as

The universe continues

To bloom, just as you

Continue to bloom,

Just as you realize more, and more,

And more, how important

You really are.  In the grand

Scheme—which is, of course,

Really, a great song–

Once again, it needs to be

Said over, and over, and over—

You matter, you have the powers

To comfort and heal,

You have the powers

To be comforted and healed–

Because nothing is alone,

Because everything matters,

Because we blossom

Through this universe

Full of the stuff of stars

And communities of compassion

And wonder.

 

So, as you stand, be the spring

And summer for the earth

As she freezes into her yearly

Death–be there, be there for her,

Be for her as the sun is

For you.

 

 

 


 

 

Thank you for your support.  All donations go to medical bills and groceries.