Love Words, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Wanting to Run

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

The day the mantle was draped on his shoulders

was the day he martyred himself with his surrender

to his own master.  He dropped his life,

in utter disbelief at Sawan’s feet.

 

We know he wanted to run.  We know

the letters he wrote, how inconsolable

he was, how unworthy he felt to take up

the task set before him.

His mind must have rattled in shock

at the sudden, sharp separation from his dreams.

 

From that day, he woke and worked, doing all

that was asked of him.  From that day

he gilded Dera with the highest example

of complete obedience.

 

His heart must have trembled the first

time he climbed the steps of the dais to sit

before the thousands. His heart must have ached

looking into the frightened faces of those turned away

from initiation.

 

And here I am with my hobbling commitment,

yet bathed in the fruits of his faithfulness, of the fiat

he gave to the Lord to give birth to the Word

that ever lives in my spindrift heart.

 

 

 


 


Blossoming Forever, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Blossoming Forever

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

At the end of the day, we are all

light-seekers.  In this world of seeming

and guessing, the impulse towards

ever-spring unfolds the flower of longing.

 

Only he knows the seasons of consciousness,

the inner purpose of flowers.  He aligns

seeds towards the sun as they sleep.

 

Darkness is the point of departure.

It is soul-changing, and he uses it

to encourage us to enter the struggle upwards.

 

Grain seeds found in Ancient Egypt grow.

No matter how long we sleep

he can wait forever for the celebration

of flowering.  Taking slow, simple, sips

of pure contentment, he watches us grow in his garden.

 

He knows all about withering, and the falling

of petals.  He knows pain determines

so much.  He knows winter comes, and so,

he turns his light into sweetness, and his voice

into warmth, and he cultivates within us a willingness

to accept surprises. Surprises, like, why-questions

suddenly unriddled, surprises, like the sky,

surprises, like eternity, surprises, like

blossoming forever

in his hands.

 

 

 

 


 


Vestiges, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Vestiges

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

It was a soft beginning—

just his voice weaving

invitations for me to live

my way into his breathing

and the spaces between the little

pauses before he said: “Well, brother,”

“Well, sister.”

 

His love does not fit

into practical life.  He inclines

to the marvelous, and so hearts

careen towards him, turning

the day-to-day upside down.

 

Meanwhile, I blunder ahead.

My wants lead me where

there is nothing to see but him.

He uses the wear and tear of the seasons,

and the fear blocking the entry of light

to awaken secrets of his always

and everywhere grace.

 

The persistent art of his patience

crosses thresholds of distance,

snatching me from the edge

of the maw of emptiness that touches

everything I do.

 

I want a soft ending, where he

lifts me, as he would a child,

from the vestiges of memory,

where all that is left is the eternity

of his voice; where the only place

left for me to go is the cradle of his arms.

 

 

 


 

 

 


Wanting to Run, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Wanting to Run

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

The day the mantle was draped on his shoulders

was the day he martyred himself with his surrender

to his own master.  He dropped his life,

in utter disbelief at Sawan’s feet.

 

We know he wanted to run.  We know

the letters he wrote, how inconsolable

he was, how unworthy he felt to take up

the task set before him.

His mind must have rattled in shock

at the sudden, sharp separation from his dreams.

 

From that day, he woke and worked, doing all

that was asked of him.  From that day

he gilded Dera with the highest example

of complete obedience.

 

His heart must have trembled the first

time he climbed the steps of the dais to sit

before the thousands. His heart must have ached

looking into the frightened faces of those turned away

from initiation.

 

And here I am with my hobbling commitment,

yet bathed in the fruits of his faithfulness, of the fiat

he gave to the Lord to give birth to the Word

that ever lives in my spindrift heart.

 

 

 

 


 


Bound by Fire, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Bound by Fire

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

Somehow, he made time to give darshan

to the mountains. Somehow everywhere

he created fountains and flowers.

 

Somehow, he follows my long wanderings

for I rarely stick to the road, and somehow

I am never fully lost.  Somehow, he calms

the motely crowd of my thoughts.

 

Even with my doddering efforts

he immerses my life in eternity’s extravagance.

He enters into conversation with my darkness

and suggests the beautiful.  His love

drives me out of the cave of my desires,

his touch is lightsome and tender,

his voice the beginning of the passageway

to surging amazement.

 

“The rose unfurls from a still center,” he says,

“live into our being drawn together,

into being bound to the fire of my love for you.”

 

 

 

 


 


Facing Eternity, By Radiance Angelina Petro

Facing Eternity

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

The three-dimensional fields of our lives

drown in detail.  The rhythms we recognize

as living, and our attempts to resist the wind,

are all part of a vast, uncontrollable sea.

 

Somehow, we are light-seeking, somehow,

we are solar-following, somehow, we reach

the edge of understanding, and gravity still

sees us to our graves.

 

He wants our participation in pursuing wholeness.

Somehow, the seeds of his mercy migrate

by means of the wind, and they find us

at our most drifting though the summer of our lives.

 

There is a Japanese legend that civilization

was born the first time someone gave someone else

a flower.  The ever-true gardener lives for beauty,

and when he touches us, a rose blossoms in our heart.

 

He knows we are solar-opening creatures, and his glance and guidance

are timeless light.  And the difficult uprooting

from our lives to be transplanted to his garden is needed,

and it hurts.  “There are benefits to this grieving,”

he says, “such as paradise. Come, face eternity

with me.”

 

 

 

 


 

 


Tiger Resting in the Shade, By Radiance Angelina Petro

Tiger Resting in the Shade

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

“What moves me is beautiful,” he says.

“Look at these roses and hibiscus,

look at the tiger resting in the shade,

look at the forests of Manali,

the spider’s web, the turban-tying

of my grandchildren, the bhandaras,

the Ellora Caves, the Kashmir mountains,

the sevadars, my mother, my daughter, my sons,

and then come, look in the mirror of my eyes.”

 

 

 


 


Midnight Sun, By Radiance Angelina Petro

Midnight Sun

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

If you ask me how he draws me

with his silver wire through the furrows

of my life, and its places in the air,

how he suddenly appears every time

I go far afield, and how he shines his way

into the little anatomies of my day-to-day,

you know very well I will confess to not

having a clue; but, if you ask me

to hazard a way to describe such love,

it would be safe to say: “wild, nearly reckless.”

Why he doesn’t leave me, why I am

the apple of his eye, why he is

my midnight sun, the only answer

I can come up with is this:

I am his little sister, and his Father has given

him charge over me, and he accepts

this onerous task, and will stick to his last

to take me home.

 

 

 


 

 

 

 


Tipping Back, By Radiance Angelina Petro

Tipping Back

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

“Go in and find out,” he says, over and over.

How he is so patient with me is a mystery.

He heralds access to the beyond—

to his country of origin—to a place where the sun

shines in the night.

 

As I tip back, then lean forward in meditation,

loosening my aching muscles, my mind wanders out

into the street.  He is the life center everywhere

I go, and he follows my downward curve,

so, I am never alone.

 

The moment I try to come back, he unleashes his love.

“Energy is liberated from burning,“ he says,

“Come, let us set your longing on fire.”

 

 

 

 


 


Vanquishing Shadows, By Radiance Angelina Petro

Vanquishing Shadows

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

The only vital fact

we need to know

is death.

 

No matter our searching

for a relative place

in the world, there will

always be a sudden

turn downward—

a retreating and diminishing–

despite our insistences otherwise.

 

Try to remember:

Master thinks in light.

He promises newborn

suns and galaxies.

The way will be made

plainly visible.

 

Fear is real.

Our living in the caskets

of our bodies

is real.

 

He does not fault our fear.

There are no boundary lines

to his tenderness.

The soft play of his voice

is enough to vanquish

the shadow which

marks the spot.

Bridges are raised

with his every move,

and with one step inward

he rescues us, walks

with us to the other shore,

where death lifts

its broad wings and flies away

forever.