Which Brings Us to Today
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

I get mixed up sometimes
and go around saying:
“I am not this, I am not that,”

until I am left with who I am,
which isn’t exactly clear, and so
I try reverting back to spontaneity.

One thing I do know is pain
is the gap between pleasures,
and something shines in all things,

and that the mind divides, the soul
multiplies, the heart adds,
spirit subtracts,

and when I wake up in the morning
my dreams swiftly and smoothly,
take steps into my life,

leaving me to remember
there is no stamp of reality. So,
sometimes I pray

to Saint Anthony, like my mom
used to tell me to do when I lost
something, but since I’m not sure

what it is I’m looking for
this ends up being an act
of frustration, and so I keep looking

anyway. “Look well,” says
Something. “Opening doors
and peeking into rooms counts,”

says the dusty furniture within.
“So does eating an orange,”
says the orange. One time

I found a dust-covered piano, and ran
my hand along the top, and dust
rose into the light, and I swear

it turned to gold, and so, satisfied
for the moment, I went back and back,
knowing everything leads somewhere,

which brings us to today, and why I am
telling you this. I’m wondering:
can you give me some clue

as to who I am? You see,
I’m on the case, and it’s possible
I can only find the answer with you.