Nursing the Dark, Eating the Light, a Fable, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 22, 2016 by Jennifer

Nursing the Dark, Eating the Light

A Fable

Radiance Angelina Petro

One day, an acorn and a cicada nymph were talking underground, when a beam of light suddenly appeared shining down on the acorn.

“What is that?” asked the acorn.

“It’s light,” said the cicada.

“Why is it tugging at me?”

“That’s what light does.”

“What if I don’t want to move?”

“Dunno,” said the cicada, “I’ve been under here for 17 years. I like the dark.”

“I haven’t been under here for nearly as long,” said the acorn, “but it sure is comfortable.”

“And cool,” said the cicada, “and snug, and yeah, so cool—wonderfully cool.”

“What do I do?” asked the acorn.

“About what?”

“The pull. I mean, my heart feels like it’s breaking, and something inside wants out.”

“Go with it,” said the cicada. “So part of you moves into the light? Your roots will always be in darkness.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?” Said the cicada, “Well, when the light draws me out, and I climb a tree and wait for my wings to spill out, then my roots will be in the sky.”

“Should I try to fight the light?” asked the acorn.

“Good luck,” said the cicada. “Funny thing is, once during late summer, you fell to the ground and the darkness pulled you under and you loved it. You didn’t resist. You couldn’t resist. I heard you sinking down. You were weeping and laughing all at the same time because it was so nourishing and safe-feeling to be under here. Now you want to fight the light. Try this, just try breathing in the light, and see what happens.”

The acorn did as the cicada suggested and she suddenly felt the light breathing her and she found herself unfurling into the bright, blue sky, and the light–she was eating the light.

“There ya go,” said the cicada.

“Aren’t you coming?” asked the acorn as she turned away.

“When I have suckled the roots of the mother tree long enough,” said the cicada, “then I will come. For now I am still nursing the dark.”

Do Yourself a Favor, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 14, 2016 by Jennifer

Do Yourself a Favor

Radiance Angelina Petro

Do yourself a favor:

Wake up

Someday,

And lie by the window

From about 4 AM

Thru full sunrise.

Notice, watch, experience

How light comes.

How it washes over you so almost

Imperceptibly

Slowly,

And washes away the darkness

Absorbing it into itself, or simply

Taking its place.

Go ahead. Be there here.

Do yourself

A favor

And watch the light

Become you

And you

Becoming the light.

As you do

You begin

Taking form, shape,

And shadows are revealed,

And edges, and open spaces,

And your favorite things,

And an indescribable delicacy

And sweetness comes,

Sits with you, lies with you, crawls

Right up next to you, and purrs.

Little by little

It touches everything,

Blesses everything,

And your eyes will adjust to seeing,

And you will be so grateful for the windows

In your life—

The clear ones

Letting in the light.

It will not force itself in

And yet it cannot be stopped.

It just needs

(and really, doesn’t even need—it wants)

To be

Received,

Or, at very least,

Surrendered to

Eventually,

And it likes to be received

In praise, or, at very least,

In wonder.

Not because it needs praise

But because it knows

You need to be praising,

For that is

What it’s doing here now

With you.

Is praising

You.

And

If you are not careful, and

Carefree,

Once the light

Establishes itself fully,

And the dawn, the morning

Comes fully,

You might be tempted

To cover your head

With the pillow

And regret doing this silly exercise,

Because now

You have to go to work soon,

And now

You will need extra coffee.

Just remember—

Through (out) the day–

You were just revealed

In light,

Bathed in light,

Kissed, blessed, washed,

Manifested, assembled, formed,

And loved

In with by light.

You were shown

Who and what you are

And how things will happen

On the last day,

And what it means

To be baptized

In spirit and truth.

And if you close your eyes while this is happening,

And just for a second drift back to sleep,

And then catch yourself awake again,

And open up your eyes again,

You will see

(Again and again)

That those few precious few seconds

Of your own self-induced darkness

Disappear

And you notice then even more now then

That more light is with you,

And smiling

New horizons

Into you,

Into your room,

Into your mind,

And of course, it is OK, and necessary

To blink, and to rub

Your eyes, and to sleep

Just remember to do yourself a favor

Someday

Someday soon now

Why not today now?

Wake up

And lie there

As light comes to get to know you,

And

After being with

The light—

Rise, if you can,

Stretch, if you can,

Reach, if you can—-be, if you can

A trembling flower steady trembling flower fresh

In the morning glory joy dancing trembling,

And then, if you can, smile back

At the light trembling in dance to see

You.

Then pause.

Inhale the light

Right

Into you.

No, it will not burn—

It isn’t that kind of light—

This is light you can breathe

And is as soft as the air itself,

And that has a name—it is called

Here I Am Here We Are Here and Now We Are There Here,

And it will whisper through you, singing ever

So softly until it becomes you

Becoming

The sea

Becoming yourself

Out loud

Saying:

Explore—step off into your life—

Make waves, dismiss limits

Of shore and time–

You are being received,

Ushered in,

Guided by,

Encouraged by,

Enjoyed by

Light—

Light that is now

Here fully

With you, naked, exposed,

Beyond being vulnerable—

It is ready, willing, and

Able

To give itself

To you

And to take you

If you want you,

And to lift you

Lift your feet,

Kiss open your eyes fully

To see

And to kiss your mouth

To speak only clarity,

And to sing your heart mind awake,

And so then you will speak words and conversations

Of light,

And your songs

Will be light and of giving thanks light,

And you will become so onewith-in being

The light—

You yourself the I Am—

That everywhere you go

You will become a living morning,

A walking sea,

A dancing, singing sun,

A bringer of possibilities,

That you will not cannot need to own—just bestow

At the feet of the world only

To then keep going,

Touching

Everything,

Spilling gifts

Everywhere,

Being a gift yourself

Everywhere spilling,

Kissing everything around you

Awake

And into

Now here and

I Am here we are here

In and of and why here,

And yes, and see, and know, and you and

I and all of us

Moveable

Roots

Growing

Up and down

In love soil

Sky soil

Earth of heaven and heaven of earth soil,

And we will take one another’s hands like

Promenading trees,

And lift one another from the table,

Closing laptops,

Putting away phones,

And we will dance

And we will spin

Into more dancing,

More shores,

More earth

More heaven earth

More earth heaven

More sea

More dancing in the sea dancing

Roots singing too with branches swaying,

And we will wave,

And we will dance

Some more,

Leaping into one another’s arms like lovers, like

Sea shore sky lovers–

So grateful

To see one another again,

And we will never maybe ever

Touch again on this earth

And yet once

We part

More light forms

Between us and we laugh and we weep

And we sing and we know and we sing and we dance some more—

We see we laugh we grow we know some more,

And cannot help

But rejoice some more

And go around

Embracing everything

And everyone some more

With the presence of here and now

And more

I Am we are here now there here now there—

Here—

See?

Isn’t it wonderful?

You know it is,

And it’s OK to say so

While you sit back down,

Sipping your coffee, getting back to work,

Checking emails, texting emoji’s, putting on

Sunglasses and going off into your world—

It’s alright—

There is light

In your briefcase, your pockets, your cup

Of coffee, your thrumming touched and blessed holy infant

Head and heart and toes and it is so glad

You came and took a moment

As it was given

And shared it with your day, your plan,

And any weariness you may have

In your arms and legs or heart—

You were you are willing

To carry exchange light—

The light you are here now I Am with you light.

The light, we are here now

The light I Am we are

And so

We sew

Light

With invisible visible threads

And golden needles

Soft as baby-hair,

Never

Ever

For a second

Trapping—

Only

Freeing

Opening

Wanting

Letting

You

Step out

And into

Yourself,

Your day, your world,

And back

Into the self

Of another

Where you see

Light becoming light

And being light yourself

You smile,

Sip your coffee,

Sip each other, sip the light,

And be now here I Am

We are now there here now.

And then skip a little, lift off the ground a little

In ever so slightly

Little lifts and skips

And leap a little, skip

A beat

And make

New dancing a little more

With every oceanic step and little river

Step and little drop of water step

And sweat upon your breast step, and dew upon the dew step,

And feel light

Lifting your feet

Without effort

Without force—

Just lifting—

And you

Will be born

Into your own life—

Therewith everyone else

Being born into theirs

As morning

You become sun

You become who

You become what

You become ever-

Here

There

Are

Were

Here

Now and

I Am you are I Am you are we are

Here we are there here we are

Here

Now

Here

Then

Here

We are

Individually

Indivisibly

Singing

Being sea being sky being light

Skipping

A way

And a new revelation

Begins with and

Is with

Is of with

Is of now with

In of in gratitude with

For the way’s revelation of the way

The road

The path

The horizon

That is simply

More light

That can’t wait, but tries to wait, yet cannot wait,

To be with you here now forever we are

I Am there here and now

We are together always

Forever

Blessed and cresting

Ebbing pausing moving touching everything

And being touched by shore

By sky by sea

By shell by stone by swirls

By castles by whole bodies

Being born again

Here now I Am we are herewith

Each other blooming again here now

There now

Ever now

In each other

Together ever

Now and

With the dawn.

And please, if you would, I am still without an income and soon to be without a place to live. Any donations you give will help enormously at this time. Thank you. All my love, Radiance <3

The Next Neighborhood Over, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 7, 2016 by Jennifer

The Next Neighborhood Over

Radiance Angelina Petro

Trying to follow the sound

Of the cicadas is what it’s like

Trying to follow the sound

Of god.

Cicadas throw their voices

And you can think one

Is right up in that tree over there,

When, in fact, it is actually

In a tree in the next neighborhood over.

Trying to trace the sound

Of god one finds oneself

Tracing figures in the air,

Or wishes on the shore.

Listening to the sound

Of god is much easier

Than asking the source

Of that sound questions.

When the cicada stops singing

And falls unseen

From its branch high up

In the tree, the silence

Signals us that change is here—

We realize waiting for answers

Is foolish and a waste–

Autumn is coming.

So we had better be prepared.

When we notice

There is no singing in the trees,

When we realize we have forgotten

Entirely about the sound—

We know winter is here.

And if we don’t do something

Outlandish and daring

In order to try making the sound

Ourselves,

Our ears will freeze over with regret,

Our hearts will harden from lack of use.

And our dreams—the ones

We used to use as compasses

To follow the sound

Of god, will be carried away, like

The shell of a cicada,

Like the shell of a sound,

Like the shell of a god

That used to play

Hide and seek with us

From the next neighborhood over.

Continue reading →

Radiance Reporting, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 6, 2016 by Jennifer

Radiance Reporting

Radiance Angelina Petro

************************************************

The thoughts contained in this poem

are a small part of what goes on in my head on a daily basis.

Thank you for reading.

**************************************************

On the days I take off from shaving

I think:

Ahhh, that feels

Good to not do.

And then I think:

Shit, this messes with which

Bathroom I go in if I leave the house.

I look less traditionally

Fem, and so, I probably can’t

Safely use the ladies room (my rightful restroom).

I better wear androgynous clothes

So I can use the men’s room—

I can go in there with a scruffy face and jeans,

And if I wanted to, hell

I could pee standing up (I can still do that, you know).

I Want You to Know, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 6, 2016 by Jennifer

I Want You to Know

Radiance Angelina Petro

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. ——Second Timothy 1:7

I want you to know

I believe in spirits.

I don’t believe there is some god

Sitting around somewhere doling out spirits—of any kind.

Spirits are not things to be given

Or taken.

Spirits do the giving (and yes, the taking).

Spirits move and live and have

Their being in, around, above, below, and through

Us. They travel looking for places

To stay—sometimes forever, other times

They just want to stop by, check out

How things are going, and then move on.

Other times they come to stay awhile

And live in your hostel mind.

Most are pretty unassuming and quiet,

Whispering only now and again

Via the wind in the trees above your head

Or in some other such manner.

Other times they can be a bit testy,

Especially when you hook one

With your emotions.

Then they can become like angry fish

And do their best to snap your line.

And yes, there are ones that mean you harm.

The main thing I want you to know though is this:

I believe in spirits.

It is important to me

That you know that.

Keep in mind: spirits

Are not ghosts.

Spirits are spirits.

Ghosts are ghosts.

Spirits wander freely.

Ghosts stay stuck in one place, screaming

Or weeping, or running up and down the hallway,

Sometimes they sit behind chairs or in walls laughing—but not

Easy laughing—more like trapped, misunderstood laughing—

The kind one might hear in an asylum.

Spirits are not angels either.

Angels are angels.

Spirits are spirits.

Several of them (spirits)

Live in me. I used to think

There were just two—a male and a female.

Now I know my soul and body and mind

Are a city of spirits. Sometimes

Things thin out a bit and I am more

A house of spirits, or a garden of spirits—

Like I said though—the main thing

I want you to take away from this poem is:

I believe in spirits. I think you

Get that now, and whether or not

You believe me, or whether or not

You believe in spirits, does not matter to me.

I told the truth.

That is the best I can do.

I Am Not a Walking Incongruency, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 4, 2016 by Jennifer

I Am Not a Walking Incongruency

Radiance Angelina Petro

I am not a walking incongruency

Like I felt I was for so long.

This husky voice, this poorly covered

Five o’clock shadow, these shoulders,

Hands—and this–

This metallic-purple eyeshadow,

Creamy rose lipstick, this pink and gold glitter

You see in my hair and on my face,

This second-hand skirt and blouse,

These breasts, these turquoise painted fingernails—

This is all me. The one and only

Incongruency is you.

Just because I do not agree

With how you think I should look

Or be, or dress, does not make me

The one who is wrong. You

Are not even wrong, in the grand

Scheme of things. However

If you insist on allowing who I am

To grind against the ideas

Of who you think I should be,

Then we have a problem.

If you cannot open the little box

Of what you think you believe

Even a little to me—or even to the idea

Of me—and yet you pray, worship

Something other than yourself

Something you believe

To be omniscient, perfect, and

The very origin and creator

Of infinite variety and love, then you

Are the walking (stumbling)

Incongruency. You are

The one, whose box—

Whose cramped, little box

Of a life is closing off

Much needed light.

It is you who must work

To align the chimera of who you are

To the reality that is—

The reality where you

Are being led by incongruences

In sheep’s clothing.

I Met an Ocean Who Laughs in Many Tongues, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 2, 2016 by Jennifer

I Met An Ocean Who Laughs in Many Tongues

Radiance Angelina Petro

I met an ocean who laughs in many tongues.

Every night she spills treasures from her blue apron

For those who seek in the morning, for those who look down

When they walk. She coaxes awe and calm

From their feet by swirling kisses around them,

And if you were to pause right there in the middle

Of one of her feet-kisses—as she moves ever so slightly

Hire up your ankles—and really try to take in

Her presence–she would undress you from you,

And then, in one slow revelation, she would bathe you in you,

And ease your breath into sweet gasping,

And send her laughter lapping into your soul,

And if you have learned anything

From such intensity of attention,

Then, as you turn

To go, you will

Allow her

One, last, lingering touch,

And in her fiery, cool fingers

You will hear her laughter in many tongues

Rising passed your solar plexus, and far beyond

Into your brain, your ears, your voice,

And you will find yourself

Looking up into her partner, the sky,

Who will be by then reaching down to lift you

As you walk, deliriously singing,

Back into the world.

You and I Have Beauty to Share, A Poem in Words and Pictures, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 1, 2016 by Jennifer

You and I Have Beauty to Share

A Poem in Words and Pictures

Radiance Angelina Petro

Come.

Come take me

One little piece of pollen at a time.

Come. I want you to.

***

Once I hid as a star,

Guarded by wisdom.

***

When I was ready

I unfolded wisdom’s spiral.

***

And allowed life’s dream

To draw me into the world.

***

For some, their wisdom will be fancy—

For there is such a thing as fancy wisdom.

***

Others bear wisdom that tightly guards–

Wanting to be absolutely sure before giving the word.

***

Regardless, when you are ready,

No matter where anyone else is in their stages of development

***

You

Will

Open.

Just like I did.

***

And you will say, come.

Come take me, one little grain of pollen at a time,

And you will share your gold

With the hive of the heart of another.

***

For that is why we have been planted here,

In the dark soil of the earth.

***

You and me–

We are meant to share the fragrance of the light we bring.

***

Until wisdom says, enough, go back

To being a star.

***

For now, go ahead, shout your trumpets of joy,

Spread your granules of sweetness—

You and I have beauty to share.

The Moment, a Short Story Told in Poetry and Prose, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Posted on August 1, 2016 by Jennifer

The Moment

A Short Story Told in Poetry and Prose

Radiance Angelina Petro

Yesterday a moment passed me by at the flea market.

She moved through the bangles, baubles, silks, bric-a-brac, knives, and rings.

I saw her and she me. In fact she turned to look at me full in the face,

And I know she was just about to tell me that every wonderful thing

Anyone has ever said about me is true—that I am a powerful force for good in this world.

We looked at each other as people passed by eating funnel cakes, ignoring us.

And just as I moved towards to her to ask her for a single, simple embrace,

She suddenly began to pull away—as if reeled backwards by some cruel fisherman,

And as she vanished, and as I began to push through people to chase after her,

She called out–I swear I heard her call out over the sounds of the many angry voices:

“Remember,” she called, “remember just how important you are. It’s all true.”

And at the last second, as I nearly caught her to pull her off whatever terrible hook that was in her,

She stretched out her hand, and I fell forwards trying to grasp it, missing it by inches.

Then she was gone–swallowed up into nothing, never to be seen again.

II.

As I sat down right there, with people having to suddenly navigate a person sitting in the middle of the floor, I began to weep. After a few minutes, out of nowhere, a little girl, holding her mother’s hand, stopped and said to her mother, “Mommy look, someone is sitting on the floor crying.”

“Ignore her,” her mother said trying to pull her along, but the girl stood stock still, forcing her mother to stop. And then, the little girl let go of her mother’s hand, and leaned in close to me and said, “Lady, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

I looked up at her. Her face was full and wise, and powdered with sugar from eating some treat—probably a funnel cake, I thought. And then I said: “Sweet one, I almost touched a moment I’ve always wanted to touch—or that I’ve always wanted to have touch me. She was just here, little girl, and we got close—so close, but then she got dragged away and disappeared, and I am afraid I will never find her ever again, nor she me. That, little sweet one, is why I am sitting here in the middle of the floor crying, like a baby.”

“Oh,” said the girl.

“Come ON,” said the mother, reaching down trying to grab her by the arm.

“In a minute,” she said, shrugging her mother away.

“It’s OK,” I said to her, you can go with your mother. I’ll be alright.”

“What did she look like?” she asked.

“Oh,” I said, “she was beautiful. More beautiful than anyone or anything I have ever seen.”

“What was she wearing?”

“Oh,” I said, “she was wearing this flowing shift of white light that made her look like she was wearing heaven.”

“I see,” she said, and then stood up, for she had sat down across from me on the floor to conduct her little interview, much to her mother’s displeasure.

“Well,” she said, reaching up for her mother’s hand, “I hope you find her again.”

“Thank you,” I laughed, “you’re very kind.”

“Let’s go,” said her mother, and then to me, “Get up lady. Look around you. Do you see anyone else sitting around crying in the middle of the floor because they missed their moment? Get up. You’re in the way.”

And as they walked into the crowd, I looked after them and, to my amazement they were both wearing flowing shifts of white light that made them look like they were wearing heaven. How had I not noticed that before? I wondered. And as I stood, I staggered, and saw everyone was wearing flowing shifts of white light, and as I braced myself against my fears, I righted my back, stood tall, and began walking again full of wonder, my own shift of white light trailing behind me, like the train of a bridal gown. It was everything I could do to refrain my hands from touching every face I saw. It was everything I could to not ask each and every person if I could hug them. It was everything I could do not to sing. And then, as I continued moving through the sea of white light, there, right next to me, holding my hand, was my moment. She was laughing, beckoning me to look around us, and as I did, I laughed too, and knew in my heart that everything wonderful anyone ever said about me was true.

The Wonder Child Blog

Sharing the Journey

Monthly Archives: August 2016

Nursing the Dark, Eating the Light, a Fable, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Do Yourself a Favor, by Radiance Angelina Petro

The Next Neighborhood Over, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Radiance Reporting, by Radiance Angelina Petro

I Want You to Know, by Radiance Angelina Petro

I Am Not a Walking Incongruency, by Radiance Angelina Petro

I Met an Ocean Who Laughs in Many Tongues, by Radiance Angelina Petro

You and I Have Beauty to Share, A Poem in Words and Pictures, by Radiance Angelina Petro

The Moment, a Short Story Told in Poetry and Prose, by Radiance Angelina Petro

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