The Final Bend in the Road
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
My soul rings cracked. Here is the marvel:
beyond the narrow cast of reason there are no
outer margins to his mercy, there are no
hidden meanings when he says: “Follow me
and your soul will ring true again.”
He walks the path of embodiment into my heart.
He is just what my heart was fitted for.
Through the drab utility of the day, the many
shifts and slants of my desires leave me unsteady,
the angles of everything I build never meet
flush and even, my thoughts are a series of endless loops,
the definitions of my life vague and vary as directionless
wind—no matter how far I go, I have barely
gotten underway, I walk only with half-steps,
and low, sweeping branches cast a thousand shadows,
and yet—still, I move.
He is the proof of his own wish
inviting me to come and taste things unseen.
He establishes his grace as the center of gravity.
The city of his love is invincible.
“Love is not learned alone,” he says, taking my hand
in his, as we meet the final bend in the road.
