Hidden Rings
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

This enormous invisibility–
elaborate and uncompromising–
booming with ways of the living.

Every deep thing is, all along,
a conviction rooted in suffering–
a deathbed conversation
of the mostly given vision
of who we are and what
we will become.

Gut the fish. You won’t find
any hidden rings. Turn to the trees,
climb them and hide in
the hawk’s nest. If possible,
become a fledgling with every intention
of one day falling into flying
and riding the sky until you spot hope
from a mile away, trying to hide,
but unable. Then, if you can,
descend–take the wind with you,
open your talons. The fur will be
softer than you imagined.