This Voyaging, By Jennifer Angelina Petro

This Voyaging

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Try as you might you never see your back

Without the aid of a mirror.  We go about

Our days not even thinking of our backs

Unless they hurt.  Outside of that,

We move forward, slowly,

Quickly, mediumly, always propelled

Ahead by some unseen wind, or force,

Or energy, or, for some, by destiny—but

For those it’s more of a pulling

Than a pushing.  At times when we notice

The wind at our backs, we feel the slight

Sensation that if we leaned forwards

Just a little we might be lifted

Through the sky, like a piece of silk,

Only to descend at night on the branch of a tree, like

A sleepy shawl.  Go through your day today, sensing

Your back space, give it your attention

As you drift or storm onwards.  Know this:

What your back looks like doesn’t matter.

That it’s there, absorbing the current, like

A sail, is what matters.  There is no use

For trying to look back at your back—

Knowing it’s there is enough,

Knowing it sweeps you forward is enough,

Knowing it steers you in mysterious ways is enough,

Knowing you have the ability to change course is enough,

Knowing the way opens, like the sea,

And sallies you forth through your life

To where a harbor waits, beckoning you

To come ashore, roam the village bizarre,

Lodge in a tavern’s upper room, gather

Provisions, and then rise, setting sail yet again

Knowing, this journey, this voyaging,

This being guided home is enough.