Why Square a Circle?

by

Radiance Angelina Petro

All those thingamabobs in that one

kitchen drawer reveal the genius

of dreams. Who was awake when they

opened the drawer, slipped in another

something or other, and then slid the drawer

closed?

There are no edges to the mind, no corners,

no boxes to think out of, and it is more

than knowing there are no boxes in the first place.

There’s only a circle as wide as the world,

and why square a circle?

There are Time Beings and Idea Beings

that live in the mind. The Idea Being plays

in the darklight, and wants to know everything,

and ventures out whether we realize it or not,

and goes on little quests that sometimes

turn into epic ones, and vice-a-versa.

The point is there is no point, no linear

one track mind. Idea Beings are into surprises.

The Time Being stands in silence

in the center of the circle and counts noon

to noon—not waiting, not wanting, not

expecting anything. It only fashions

preludes, and sometimes ventures out

so we can venture in. Sometimes

they reveal themselves when we open

the drawer and wonder—smiling–

how it all came to be, and why, knowing

whatever it was we are searching for

will not be found (it’s in another drawer).

And so, for the Time Being, this is one

of those moments when it offers its hand

to the Idea Being, so they can dance themselves

into flight, flying far outside the circle.

Remind Me

by

Radiance Angelina Petro

Remind me again that my baggage

is collapsible, and that I can stop kicking,

that everything eclipses something,

and that everything is more than itself,

and that when roots shift, they carry bones,

and how I must put up with risks,

and that light is supported by darkness,

and that it takes time to possess space,

remind me again that you will enter my life unseen

and start singing, that you will guide your breath

through consonants and vowels, and spin words

into tones, and that, if needed,

you will hold a note that curtails time,

remind me again that your voice

can feel like thunder in the air,

and that it can also shine like a firefly

describing the evening,

please, let your voice leave your lips

gliding, unharmed, light-combined, star-

distilled, nectarous, giving rise to waves

inside me, touch my sleeping wings–

help me remember sky, and the bliss

of being myself.

After the Ritual

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

After the ritual

ritual continues.

Consider new and old

passageways–walk them,

or not, change directions,

or not. Life explores

you, nudges you

inwards and outwards

with such wild

anticipation and faith

it can barely hold in

its joy and surprise.

Reason and observe

how ways open

and close, expand,

contract. Count blessings–

not as things to accumulate,

but as provisions to use

in lean times, and by use,

I mean, share. Every step

and pause is reverence

for ground and sky,

backspace, and front–

each exhale and inhale,

and holding of breath–

ceremonies for that

precious, holy, mischievous

moment of the remembrance

of the sacred shadow

who moves with us everywhere

we go and don’t go,

until that time when we merge

with it, grow wings,

lift and soar, bank, and rise

into the darkness of another

sleep and awakening

in the universal womb

where sperm and egg

reassemble us cell by cell,

bone by bone, blood

with blood, dream

by dream, ritual

by ritual.