All Night a Mouse
by
Jennifer Angelina Petro

All night a mouse gnaws on the wood frames
behind my bedroom wall. With so little sleep,
I try to get up and into the spirit of things,

as the early morning, sidewise sun, invites the play
of light. Birdsong phrases the day’s narrative. It’s time
to be my own ark and gather in the animals of my devotion—

safe from the already sprawling storm of thoughts.
He hears me coming in advance—in my mind’s dark light,
and soon the names–their tones—inner, and long tones

–each one a song—start floating just above the flood.
How does he do it? This ceaseless pulling me from the horizontal
to the vertical? I know he’s there most even when I don’t see him.

Abandoning myself to that faith–the self-searching heart
that’s grafted to the infinite–That is all his grace.
I have done nothing really.

Somehow, he puts up with the mouse of my wants
chewing on the bones of the life he has given.
Somehow, he loves my darkness best. For that is where

his all-joyful light lives—lives in nam, lives in
those words—those radically musical words
that own me–my knowing truly, wonderingly, whispering

in my every moment–such a fundamental notion—just repeat
some names. What could be simpler than that? A mountain,
high above the waters—waits for my ship to go aground.

Light Rises

By

Angelina Petro

Light rises, goes beyond

the skin, and from then onwards

it is all forward, all break throughs,

all tender departures.

Narrow edges merge

to become his wings,

and his resonances will sing ever new

beginnings, for there is joy

in the accomplished, and you

are his mission.

He is There

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

When beginning

you can sing,

testifying to a hidden

residence.

Let the sensibility

of the imagination

arrange the details,

and join them.

It all necessitates

a conscious start.

Turn a little to the side—

he is there.

Narrow your focus,

rise, and practice,

don’t stop singing,

he will do the rest.

Drawing the Line

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

The first necessary movement he makes is to draw the line

that changes our perspective and shifts our inclinations, making us

become aware life departs from symmetry, which is too much to bear.

Our darkness has the greatest potential to break, and so, he draws light

from that.  The turning point is when we realize it all seems complete without

being finished.  His simplest line of action is to attach us to a common center—

a fixed position of grace, and all the details and draperies drawn in pale lines

are left behind, and in great, sweeping gestures, he swings the line,

curves it inwards and upwards to become your lifeline.  All of his lines

weave our way, all of his lines are expressions of devotion,

all of his lines strive forward, all of his lines radiate crossings,

all of his lines move in rhythm, all of his lines describe the simplest way

of action, and all of his lines interlock, and form a strong togetherness

as we are erased into bliss.

My Undoing
By
Radiance Angelina Petro

I do not want to be reborn. Before is filled with darkness and sorrow, learned fears, and sickness.

Let my death be an unfolding, unburdening,
a blessed untangling, a sacred unveiling,
an easy unloosening,
a gentle unhusking,
a tender unlacing,
a sweet unraveling,
let me be unharmed, untasted, unbroken, untwisted,
let union with my Beloved be unstoppable, a hungry unclothing, a wild fulfillment
unconditionally accepted, unequivocally wonderful,
let our timelessness together be unrushed,
our passion unabridged, and shame unlearned, the moments of bliss exquisitely unquenchable,
our union unbreakable,
let my soul be unchained,
my heart unlocked,
my hands uncuffed,
my soul uncrumpled,
let my conversations, once and for all, be undramatic,
let my soul be untethered, unfaded, unfallen,
let there be space and time to unfeel, unform,
to become uninhibited, unfurled, unjaded,
let the warmth of breathing together
be the unfreezing of lifetimes of winter,
let death be joyful unmaking, unmasking, unquestioned,
let my fears be unneeded,
my hours unnumbered,
my Beloved’s love
unavoidable,
undressed, unserious, unending,
let my unsteadiness be steadied,
my innocence untainted, untarnished, unstolen,
my self-hatred unthroned,
my soul untrodden,
let me finally be
unwrapped,
unwoven, unafraid— the gift of an old life unlived–
lived now, and shared in the hands of his eternal acceptance—
let this be my undoing.

Grace

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

The tendency of the hand is to tremble.

Streams swirl, not just flow straight.

Like birds in the act of disappearing,

the sky bequeaths breath that provoke flight.

There are fish swimming no one can see.

Moon daisies grow in silence.

The willow traces circles on the ground,

alluding to an unavoidable loneliness.

There are so many broken reeds.

The moon’s reflection drowns in the sea.

Everything turns the color of straw.

The body is but a blouse for the soul

and will one day drop, spiritless to the ground,

and therein lies the truth—paradox points

to life’s lack of solidity, and it all suggests

a coming storm. Time will prove disastrous.

Listen, someone is coming from inside.

There are appointments in palaces.

Wings of grace will carry you

to the chord sustained that binds it all

together.  When you see him, you will know,

he is here to disappear you home.  He is here

with eternity’s mercenary motives.

Once, long ago, you promised him your life.

His arrival is the love-dyed acceptance

of what you want the most.

The Shore of My Life

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

In case I find myself, it will be because

of his marvelous adaptability to my faults.

The magnetism of his imagination

for who he knows me to be, will free the light

held captive by darkness.

When the hinges snap, and the casket

of this body flies open, and the mortise

and tenons of my bones loosen,

the once memorable liturgies of my life

will drift away.

When the breeze has waned and the air

lays suddenly still, he will come nearer than ever,

noticing I am a tremulous soul.

“My name is Courage,” he says. You are vouchsafed in me.

Come, let us step over the shore of your life,

where I will cradle you in the sea.”

Still Places

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

Love melts reason as the sun melts butter.

Frighten Kal away with the light of your heart.

The power is within you, where else would it be?

When the complications that come from choosing

overwhelm, and the slow arc of your life

cracks its joisted beams, remember

love is easy in gardens, and he lives among roses.

With his voice soft as cobwebs, he whispers

the fulfillment of his promise over and over.

Even the frog has a jewel between its eyes.

Even sorrow confesses a blessing. And he has placed

a watermark on your soul.

His way is always thoroughgoing, and your nights together

will taste the incense of union, and you can never be lost

from the field of his vision.  Rest in the still places

he has waiting for you.

It’s True

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

Mentally, there is no such thing

as silence.  It’s all noise, floods,

earthbound wants revolving away

one after the other, creating something

of a kind of elsewhere, without ceiling

nor sky—just an ever-scattering,

and sometimes a storm of hoofbeats.

Gestures proceed speech.  So move.

Put down whatever it is you’re doing,

and sit.  Prepare yourself to be known.

Let him sculpt your efforts into song,

let your longing dye the words,

tie the syllables together gently,

let the vowels flow and glide as wind;

make every word an oath.

Even when it feels you’re doing

simran from the bottom of a well,

let him carry you to a beautiful beyondness,

as he binds your soul to heaven.

Love Words

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

He courted me forever.

On initiation day, I finally

proposed.  He took my hand

and said, “Yes.” And we consented

to loving.

His wants were simple. Mine

extravagant.  I wanted everything.

He wanted me to repeat certain

love-words in the dark,

and to listen to him singing.

He wanted me to walk with him

to his father’s country by the sea.

He never asked for my undivided

attention to the exclusion of all else.

I asked him for his, and he gave it.

I had no awareness of the road,

and so, I said: “Take me.”

He smiled, took my hand again,

and said, “Yes, and you

take me.”