Go with the Spiraling
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
Morning swirls away
the dreams that visit
our sleep, as a Buddhist monk
brushes away a mandala
that took forever to create.
And just as the monk
collects the grains of sand
into a silken covered bowl
and pours them into a river,
so too our dreams are gathered
into a bowl—but this time—
made of birdsong, and scattered
into the day.
It is the same with butterflies
waking up from wherever it is
butterflies sleep—a puff
of tiny scales releases into the air
from the dream of their wings
as they quaver towards fields of light.
It isn’t enough to wish.
Go with the spiraling, brilliant
sands of the dissolving mandala,
follow the butterflies
into clouds of flowers,
merge with this moment
as the future merges with you.