Light Rises
By
Angelina Petro
Light rises, goes beyond
the skin, and from then onwards
it is all forward, all break throughs,
all tender departures.
Narrow edges merge
to become his wings,
and his resonances will sing ever new
beginnings, for there is joy
in the accomplished, and you
are his mission.
He is There
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
When beginning
you can sing,
testifying to a hidden
residence.
Let the sensibility
of the imagination
arrange the details,
and join them.
It all necessitates
a conscious start.
Turn a little to the side—
he is there.
Narrow your focus,
rise, and practice,
don’t stop singing,
he will do the rest.
Drawing the Line
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
The first necessary movement he makes is to draw the line
that changes our perspective and shifts our inclinations, making us
become aware life departs from symmetry, which is too much to bear.
Our darkness has the greatest potential to break, and so, he draws light
from that. The turning point is when we realize it all seems complete without
being finished. His simplest line of action is to attach us to a common center—
a fixed position of grace, and all the details and draperies drawn in pale lines
are left behind, and in great, sweeping gestures, he swings the line,
curves it inwards and upwards to become your lifeline. All of his lines
weave our way, all of his lines are expressions of devotion,
all of his lines strive forward, all of his lines radiate crossings,
all of his lines move in rhythm, all of his lines describe the simplest way
of action, and all of his lines interlock, and form a strong togetherness
as we are erased into bliss.
My Undoing
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
I do not want to be reborn. Before is filled with darkness and sorrow, learned fears, and sickness.
Let my death be an unfolding, unburdening,
a blessed untangling, a sacred unveiling,
an easy unloosening,
a gentle unhusking,
a tender unlacing,
a sweet unraveling,
let me be unharmed, untasted, unbroken, untwisted,
let union with my Beloved be unstoppable, a hungry unclothing, a wild fulfillment
unconditionally accepted, unequivocally wonderful,
let our timelessness together be unrushed,
our passion unabridged, and shame unlearned, the moments of bliss exquisitely unquenchable,
our union unbreakable,
let my soul be unchained,
my heart unlocked,
my hands uncuffed,
my soul uncrumpled,
let my conversations, once and for all, be undramatic,
let my soul be untethered, unfaded, unfallen,
let there be space and time to unfeel, unform,
to become uninhibited, unfurled, unjaded,
let the warmth of breathing together
be the unfreezing of lifetimes of winter,
let death be joyful unmaking, unmasking, unquestioned,
let my fears be unneeded,
my hours unnumbered,
my Beloved’s love
unavoidable,
undressed, unserious, unending,
let my unsteadiness be steadied,
my innocence untainted, untarnished, unstolen,
my self-hatred unthroned,
my soul untrodden,
let me finally be
unwrapped,
unwoven, unafraid— the gift of an old life unlived–
lived now, and shared in the hands of his eternal acceptance—
let this be my undoing.
Grace
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
The tendency of the hand is to tremble.
Streams swirl, not just flow straight.
Like birds in the act of disappearing,
the sky bequeaths breath that provoke flight.
There are fish swimming no one can see.
Moon daisies grow in silence.
The willow traces circles on the ground,
alluding to an unavoidable loneliness.
There are so many broken reeds.
The moon’s reflection drowns in the sea.
Everything turns the color of straw.
The body is but a blouse for the soul
and will one day drop, spiritless to the ground,
and therein lies the truth—paradox points
to life’s lack of solidity, and it all suggests
a coming storm. Time will prove disastrous.
Listen, someone is coming from inside.
There are appointments in palaces.
Wings of grace will carry you
to the chord sustained that binds it all
together. When you see him, you will know,
he is here to disappear you home. He is here
with eternity’s mercenary motives.
Once, long ago, you promised him your life.
His arrival is the love-dyed acceptance
of what you want the most.
The Shore of My Life
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
In case I find myself, it will be because
of his marvelous adaptability to my faults.
The magnetism of his imagination
for who he knows me to be, will free the light
held captive by darkness.
When the hinges snap, and the casket
of this body flies open, and the mortise
and tenons of my bones loosen,
the once memorable liturgies of my life
will drift away.
When the breeze has waned and the air
lays suddenly still, he will come nearer than ever,
noticing I am a tremulous soul.
“My name is Courage,” he says. You are vouchsafed in me.
Come, let us step over the shore of your life,
where I will cradle you in the sea.”
Still Places
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
Love melts reason as the sun melts butter.
Frighten Kal away with the light of your heart.
The power is within you, where else would it be?
When the complications that come from choosing
overwhelm, and the slow arc of your life
cracks its joisted beams, remember
love is easy in gardens, and he lives among roses.
With his voice soft as cobwebs, he whispers
the fulfillment of his promise over and over.
Even the frog has a jewel between its eyes.
Even sorrow confesses a blessing. And he has placed
a watermark on your soul.
His way is always thoroughgoing, and your nights together
will taste the incense of union, and you can never be lost
from the field of his vision. Rest in the still places
he has waiting for you.
It’s True
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
Mentally, there is no such thing
as silence. It’s all noise, floods,
earthbound wants revolving away
one after the other, creating something
of a kind of elsewhere, without ceiling
nor sky—just an ever-scattering,
and sometimes a storm of hoofbeats.
Gestures proceed speech. So move.
Put down whatever it is you’re doing,
and sit. Prepare yourself to be known.
Let him sculpt your efforts into song,
let your longing dye the words,
tie the syllables together gently,
let the vowels flow and glide as wind;
make every word an oath.
Even when it feels you’re doing
simran from the bottom of a well,
let him carry you to a beautiful beyondness,
as he binds your soul to heaven.
