Let the Resonance Fall
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

After showering, shaving,
I get right to poetry.

Running parallel to bridges,
connecting tones near and far,

beyond question my magnetic-
imagination. My whole body full

of sound. I’ve observed myself
for weeks. There is nothing trifling in what comes.

I must try to catch reflections,
transpose light as the Muse sees fit.

There is an eternal vibrato, tremulous,
holy, flowing in all things, like

notes from a low clarinet, always
beginning. I want to know everything in the world–

always beginning, the pen moves. All that is
necessary is to let the resonance fall.

It’s Possible
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Turn a little to the side, one will always—
almost always appear, nearly touching–
a whale moving through the air– staring with time’s eyes.

It’s possible. Along the narrow edges
of the mind it’s possible. It can be said—
up to a point, but is well to consider the necessary

straight lines that turn into circles. Why
explain why? It cannot be done anyhow.
There’s a whale floating beside you.

In the yard next to me, one sunflower
nods its head more than the others. I agree,
climb atop the whale, remembering

my body, as we streamline through the sky,
steering towards a story that guides us.
It’s possible. It’s all possible.

Until the Light
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Who has the right to close a dead man’s eyes?
Maybe they’re watching themselves circling
into the sky, their feather’s the somber hues of the hawk’s,
until the light catches their wings, shining them into gold.

Ready-Lines
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Sometimes, silent or singing, we fall inside
to so many realizations of the beautiful.
Our spirits grow, like roots—more horizontal
than vertical.

The deliberate plans for tomorrow,
your voice finding tones in the air.

Sunlight pulls flower-petals into shape, like
a child playing with beeswax,
the moon makes sure roots have water,
worms have their own work to do.

Remember, after you fall inside go back out,
invite others into your life, and hope
they invite you into theirs.

The tailor has already chalked blue ready-lines
in the fabric of your life, now you
make the dress best-fitted to dance.

We’re the Ones
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Ghosts are always looking
for people. Our senses
pull us awake. There are streams
we will never see, flowing
underground.

The matter-of-fact wind, the silver linings
we carry in our pockets. It’s up to us
to step from the folds of the night,
leaving shadows guessing.

We’re the ones walking through char
and ash. We’re the ones filling churches
with singing. We’re the ones waking up
every day saying: “Impossible
isn’t a word the morning knows.”

Breaking Open
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Water the young trees, morning is never
falsely promised. Buddha started out as a fly,
and one day said: “Shine forth, and ignite.”
Who knows if the dying patient is resting comfortably?
What if seeds never asked to break open?
What if they fight it tooth and nail to the bitter end?
Who actually wants to fall into a thousand pieces?
Let’s come together and share each other’s sorrows.
Your fear is my fear. There are so many
wars to fight, so many unread stories shaped, like trees,
so many possibilities to serve one another.
Let’s break open into each other’s arms,
our souls vigorous as always, and say:
“Shine forth, and ignite.”

By the Way
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Even James Joyce entered singing contests,
Richard Wagner sang, but couldn’t hit a note and didn’t care,
Fred Astaire sang while dancing,
Billie Holiday blessed the child.

There are only so many notes to sing,
and we all, like birds, have ready-made voices,
we all use by-the-way breaths.

Discard what anyone thinks of you—
the good or bad from the beginning,
wear sensible shoes, and let your voice swing
with the band.

Opening Night
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Through attenuated hours and heavy-hooded eyes,
the inexact shadows, the fears running riot,
the semblances of stillness, what are we
to believe?

There are so many ready to hiss you off stage
even before the Awakening Scene,
there are those who seek to freeze you out of their lives
then high-step away, like Andalusian horses.
Yet, through the arched roof of your mouth,
and the unfolding soul, comes nothing but praise.

You are loved by many. You are encircled by angels.
When you step in from the rain, at the top of the steps
of the theater, close your umbrella slowly, like
a movie star from Paris on opening night.

The Third Lesson
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

I have a place in the air. My liminal life
rarely asks how. Marked by depressions,
it is safe to say my soul follows angles of separation,

and what aliveness I have slopes inwards. Beyond
the look of the world, and the vastness of the sea,
I still search for stages of widening.

The great imaginer has stopped wanting
to be known. Trapped in a circle of sorrow
the midnight sun has some to rest in tendrils of smoke.

The felling wedge is driven, and the third lesson
is the one about free thinking being surrounded
by devils.

The night metabolizes the light, and I sleep
it all away. There are eight million strikes of lightning
a day, and each one eaten by the ground.

The Kaleidoscopic Day
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

“The future is possibilized.”
-Satre

The turtle follows a plain and quiet path
as it drags its tail in the mud.
The dragonfly skims the water and lifts
the minnow away. The owl knows each feather.
Storms follow the eyes of the wind.
The Andaman Islanders tell time by the scent
of flowers.

This is no time for indifference. Keep track
of your shadows. Return to amazement.
The world needs you, and there are no small
doings. Our tongues have been snugged to the roof
of our mouths long enough. Stand on tiptoes again,
and reach for something—anything higher.
Our first conversations are when we can look
each other in the eye and see the kaleidoscopic day.