Go with the Spiraling

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

Morning swirls away

the dreams that visit

our sleep, as a Buddhist monk

brushes away a mandala

that took forever to create.

And just as the monk

collects the grains of sand

into a silken covered bowl

and pours them into a river,

so too our dreams are gathered

into a bowl—but this time—

made of birdsong, and scattered

into the day.

It is the same with butterflies

waking up from wherever it is

butterflies sleep—a puff

of tiny scales releases into the air

from the dream of their wings

as they quaver towards fields of light.

It isn’t enough to wish.

Go with the spiraling, brilliant

sands of the dissolving mandala,

follow the butterflies

into clouds of flowers,

merge with this moment

as the future merges with you.