Monthly Archives: January 2018

It’s Like This, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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It’s Like This

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

I stand here.  The monster

Stands there—in front of me

Mirroring my every move.

 

Separating us is a glass wall

Whisper thick and strong as hope.

 

Some days I barely think

Of the monster, yet I know it’s there–

I see it, out of the corner of my eye,

Doing everything I do.

 

There are days it pounds on the glass—

Howling, pacing, and somehow

Growing.  Every morning

I reinforce the wall, look at the monster,

And stare it down.

 

Lately, I notice spiderwebbing cracks blooming

Over the wall.  The monster presses

The glass, testing its solidity, smiling.

 

I assume it will hold.  I assume it is

Strong enough.  And then I blink and the monster’s hand

Passes through the wall as if it isn’t there.

I blink again and the monster is back

On the other side of the wall, blocked

From reaching me, or, at least, I assume.

 

Going about my life, dependent

On a wall whisper thick and strong as hope

Makes me feel, at times, like a sham, like

If it wasn’t for the wall the monster would be

All there is, like I am not as truly well

As I think I am.

 

The wall will not last forever,

The wall may need to be adjusted

In strength, and still I fear it will not last

Forever.

 

And all the while the monster

Grows, waiting, watching, studying what I do.

 

If the wall finally gives way,

The monster will take hold of me, toss me to where

It once stood, build a wall of its own,

Scream-thick and strong as hell,

And it will go into my life, smiling,

Leaving me behind and to do everything

It does, but in slow motion, all the while I am turning

Into a memory of light snuffed out

By the dark.

 

 

 


 

 

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


The Darker the World Becomes, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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The Darker the World Becomes

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Winter, I am here.

I should be sleeping, like

The bears and bees, and somewhere

The bats.

 

Yet, I am awake.  And there is

Darkness, and there is cold, and there is

The silencing of snow, and yet,

I am here, awake, and as best I can,

A light, and as best I can—descending.

 

The earth has been compressed—

Seeds and all manner of growing things—

Are pressed deep into the cold ground.

 

I am still walking.  And through

Winter’s necessary darkness, I move,

And as I do, striding with my little light,

The darkness spreads, parts, like curtains,

And with every step, the darkness gives way

Illumined and warming towards spring.

 

This isn’t to say darkness is wrong,

This isn’t to say I am savior or enlightened,

It simply means I am awake, it simply means

I have a job to do, it simply means

My soul is in the right place, it simply means

The darker the world becomes

The brighter I will be.

 

 


 

 

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

Making Little Musicals, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Making Little Musicals

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

It’s amazing, isn’t it?

How our everyday speaking

Voices can be elevated

Instantaneously, into singing.

Think of it—one word

You can speak, one word

You can sing—a sentence can

Rise and fall in and out

Of song like the invisible path

Of a butterfly wings.

I know, you might be

Thinking—And?

To which I say:  And everything!

Everything is right there

In that simple, effortless

Reshaping of sound, of carrying joy

On the breath from within you.

Perhaps everything said should be sung,

Perhaps every year that goes by

Should be full of song, or,

At very least long stretches

Of each season—Imagine that–

Even if some songs are dirges, even if some songs

Are sung on tip-toe just out of our range,

Even if some songs

Are in languages we do not understand,

Even if some songs are screamed like ones

In a punk band, even if some songs

Are in three-part harmony,

Even if some songs move us

To tears, even if some songs

Lift us into realms of glory–

I think we should try it—sing

Every word for one day

And see how much fun it could be

Making little musicals

While buying a cup of coffee,

Or saying, hello while holding

The door, or sending the kids

Off to school, or arguing over

Politics, or teaching in a classroom,

Or giving a sermon, or while greeting

A pet or spouse, or telling someone

You love them forever.

 

clouds light

 

 


 

 


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

One Way to Prepare, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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One Way to Prepare

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Exhale: Release and create,

Inhale:  Gather and nourish,

Exhale: Loosen and share,

Inhale:  Draw and replenish,

Exhale: Surrender and sigh,

Inhale:  Unite and receive,

Exhale: Express and give,

Inhale:  Assemble and hold,

Exhale: Relinquish and set free,

Inhale:  Store and treasure,

Exhale: Cast and measure out,

Inhale:  Claim and protect,

Exhale: Bestow and rejoice,

Inhale:  Shore up and fortify,

Exhale: I am awake and ready.

 

 

 


 

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

 

That Stubborn Superhero, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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That Stubborn Superhero

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Out in nature, which is

To say, in us—it happens

This way:

 

The longest night comes

Filling what little day there is left

With thinly veiled darkness,

That, veil after veil, begins

To cover the day, like

A shawl thrown in slow motion

Over a lamp.

 

After the night has had its run,

It slowly—you’d better believe it—

Shrinks back to a more manageable size,

It contracts as the day exhales,

And with each exhalation, spring,

Moment by seemingly imperceptible

Moment—swells with such joy

It can barely contain itself.

 

And the light begins to coax the darkness

Into slipping away into time and to allow

Itself to grow its slow, wild warmth.

 

We have all gone through darknesses

That seemed to last forever—

At least—I have—when I couldn’t

Believe any light would ever come

Ever, ever, again, and that the abyss

Of not being able to see or hardly move

Would enshroud me forever.

 

If this has ever happened to you,

Or maybe is happening to you

Right now—believe it—spring always

Comes—little by hardly noticeable little

Darkness becomes less and less

And seeds of exhaultation can’t wait

To burst into flowers and tangible light.

 

I am not saying all darkness is bad.

There is a holy darkness, touched

With water and earth, where fireflies

Bedazzle the night, where love-making

Eases us into the sweetest sleep.

 

I am talking about the darkness

That swallows the will and chews it

Practically into nothing.

 

Just as too much light burns,

Too much darkness freezes the soul.

 

So, take my word for it—as someone

Who has been there and is taken there

Against my will every year—the swallowing darkness

Turns and slips away like a receding flood of black ink

Eventually, leaving gardens of survival,

Fragrant with honeysuckle,

And damp with laughter.

 

You’d better believe it,

Or if, like me, sometimes

That is impossible to do–

Pretend to believe it—or even if

That is too hard to do—don’t then–

Because its true regardless:

Never once has the night held captive

The day forever.  Day, that stubborn superhero,

Will break free of night’s weakening grasp,

And soar, ringing through the fields,

Leaving visible hope spreading

Over all the land.

 

tree hope


 

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