No Body Else but Yours
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
Listen, trees
breathe you
breath drawn
from roots,
drawn from darkness,
that, in turn,
breathe the earth
cradled in arms
that spiral stars
with revolutions
of joy.
The next time
you feel wind
on your face,
know you are dear
to the heart
of the world;
how you are
touched
with eternity
breathed
from lungs
of love and sighs,
that are, in turn,
born from a longing
for nothing more
than a glance
that is no body
else’s but yours.
Light Source Unknown
by
Jennifer Angelina Petro
Moving through
the world,
a living shadow,
without
a body,
light source
unknown.
Go with the Spiraling
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
Morning swirls away
the dreams that visit
our sleep, as a Buddhist monk
brushes away a mandala
that took forever to create.
And just as the monk
collects the grains of sand
into a silken covered bowl
and pours them into a river,
so too our dreams are gathered
into a bowl—but this time—
made of birdsong, and scattered
into the day.
It is the same with butterflies
waking up from wherever it is
butterflies sleep—a puff
of tiny scales releases into the air
from the dream of their wings
as they quaver towards fields of light.
It isn’t enough to wish.
Go with the spiraling, brilliant
sands of the dissolving mandala,
follow the butterflies
into clouds of flowers,
merge with this moment
as the future merges with you.
Maybe, Just Maybe
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
One line stumbles over into another,
and then that line into another, until maybe,
just maybe, a road appears,
or a river, and you go somewhere
with someone you do not know,
pointing out land marks, and local fauna,
stopping now and then, to look up
at the hawk gliding without effort,
silent as a thought.
Up ahead gradually arrives,
and you notice your shadows
have moved from in front of you
to behind you, until, maybe,
just maybe, the road rises,
and the beginning begins.
Bees Lead the Way
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
It’s ok to shelter your heart.
Elegant safety, full of grace, full of heaven,
necessary shadows cradle the light,
bells ring softly, sound merging with forgiveness,
blending with the readying to let go,
bees lead the way to sweet sacristies,
wings thrumming with light,
lifting the sun from holy darkness.
