It’s True, by Radiance Angelina Petro

It’s True

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

Mentally, there is no such thing

as silence.  It’s all noise, floods,

earthbound wants revolving away

one after the other, creating something

of a kind of elsewhere, without ceiling

nor sky—just an ever-scattering,

and sometimes a storm of hoofbeats.

 

Gestures proceed speech.  So, move,

put down whatever it is you’re doing,

and sit.  Prepare yourself to be known.

Let him sculpt your efforts into song,

let your longing dye the words,

tie the syllables together gently,

let the vowels flow and glide as wind;

make every word an oath.

 

Even when it feels you’re doing

simran from the bottom of a well,

let him carry you to a beautiful beyondness,

as he binds your soul to heaven.

 

 

 

 


 

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