Rising Up to Meet the Road
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
There are poems unfinished
Waiting in the woods beneath roots of trees
And hovering, like horsetail clouds behind the moon;
There are songs unwritten
Following beside me as I walk,
Their melodies coming in snippets, like
Distant birdcalls or pieces
Of dreams, and soundbites
Of conversations overheard
In used bookstores, classrooms, and coffee shops,
Their rhythms blossoming
From the muse and the soul touching all night, all day,
Every day, when I am not able to dance
Either asleep or awake;
There is work undone
Waiting in the universe, making its way
Towards my door, opportunities
Growing, like flower gardens
Planted when no one is looking,
But they are coming, they are revealing
Themselves little by little, like
Spring in the coldest of winters;
There are people unloved
Waiting in the wings for me to release the spirits
That bind me–to make my way
Towards the light, to open
The hands of my heart
And let in those who see
And feel and know my name,
And for me to step through
The fourth wall and into their arms and lives;
There are answered prayers
Unprayed, waiting to be let loose
Into the world, like
So many fireflies, like a carnival
Of children, like a collection
Of songs and poems
Published on the wings
Of pain and healing and lifting their way
Into moonlit clouds and sunlit days,
And alighting back down as angels and
Moonbeams, sunbeams and ends of rainbows,
Petals of cherry blossoms,
Dragonflies, and cries of cicadas
And morning doves, and beings
Of all the elements, and all of this, all of this
Swirling into one, worthy to be lived
Life of one woman rising up
To meet the road.