The Gravity of Longing
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
The moon reaches down
Lifting the waves in her cupped hands,
Scales of fish contain petals of the sun,
Moths slip the gravity of their longing
Letting their wings catch fire,
Wind arrives at street corners, spinning leaves
In little galaxies,
Deer move as solemn Druids,
Leaving angel hoof-prints in the snow,
Union and separation whirl in expanding
And contracting orbits of desire,
Creation wheels around the flame of god,
The road of your passion unfurls before you,
With a keenness that washes your hair and hands–
Sing—
Keep your prayers coming and your steps light–
They will return home, dancing.