I Think So
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
It’s possible, isn’t it?
To walk through the dark field,
Brushing your hands over the tops
Of the barley, under the stars
And the patient moon;
To let go, while at the same time
Hold on for dear life,
As thoughts flood,
And fear lifts you
Out of your body
To a safer place
Among the trees;
To hear the owl’s question
And to answer in the affirmative,
Declaring you rightfully exist
Among the fireflies, the crickets,
And the turning world;
To see the falling star
And to wish nothing more
Than for the owl to find food;
To step into the river, without
Succumbing to the cold,
And to reach down, lifting water
Over your head and say:
“This is my beloved child,
With whom I am well pleased.”