Tag Archives: meditation
Landing, By Jennifer Angelina Petro
Landing
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
Landing in meditation
I found myself
With you. Of course,
I knew you would be
Waiting, open for me
To read, and you waiting,
To offer ideas and suggestions
For revisions of my story,
And yes, I know the last sentence
As everyone does, and when
It comes, and the journal is full,
Another will be ready-made with sewn binding
And paper made of linen
Watermarked with your kiss,
And you will lift me
From the pages
Of the full one—complete
With your lavish touches
And crammed with my ridiculous adventures,
And you will say, with all the pride
Of a parent laying a newborn
Into a bassinet—
Live.
The Next Neighborhood Over, by Radiance Angelina Petro
The Next Neighborhood Over
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
Trying to follow the sound
Of the cicadas is what it’s like
Trying to follow the sound
Of god.
Cicadas throw their voices
And you can think one
Is right up in that tree over there,
When, in fact, it is actually
In a tree in the next neighborhood over.
Trying to trace the sound
Of god one finds oneself
Tracing figures in the air,
Or wishes on the shore.
Listening to the sound
Of god is much easier
Than asking the source
Of that sound questions.
When the cicada stops singing
And falls unseen
From its branch high up
In the tree, the silence
Signals us that change is here—
We realize waiting for answers
Is foolish and a waste–
Autumn is coming.
So we had better be prepared.
When we notice
There is no singing in the trees,
When we realize we have forgotten
Entirely about the sound—
We know winter is here.
And if we don’t do something
Outlandish and daring
In order to try making the sound
Ourselves,
Our ears will freeze over with regret,
Our hearts will harden from lack of use.
And our dreams—the ones
We used to use as compasses
To follow the sound
Of god, will be carried away, like
The shell of a cicada,
Like the shell of a sound,
Like the shell of a god
That used to play
Hide and seek with us
From the next neighborhood over.
Stop for a Moment
Stop for a Moment
By
Joseph Anthony Petro
Listen:
You never were
Anything less
Than you are now, and yet,
One day, one day sooner
Than you think,
You will be so much more.
It isn’t simply a matter of perspective.
It is more akin
To falling in love with yourself.
How can this be, and what
Does loving yourself
Have to do with anything?
Close your eyes.
Please.
Breathe in the image
Of a seed sleeping in the earth,
Hold it there a moment—
Now breathe out the image
Of a tree crowned with the sky.
Wonderful.
Now breathe in the image
Of a bird’s egg,
Hold it there a moment—
Then breathe out the image
Of a bird, in this case an owl
Gliding with a mantle of stars
Over a moonlit marsh.
Tell me:
How is a tree—sturdy
Yet swaying, rooted yet reaching,
Not an image of the earth
Loving itself into the sky?
How is an owl, a heart with wings,
Not an image of the night
Turning its head around
To look at itself in pure astonishment
And admiration?
You were once a zygote
And now you are reading this
Blossoming into your life;
You are what loving your neighbor
As yourself is all about.
You are a seed-spark growing,
Reaching, branching out as a body of light—
God’s own flame
Dancing in a hearth of flesh and bone,
And one day, one day sooner than you think,
The flame will leap from the room
Of your life and become an owl of astonishment
Perched in a tree crowned with the sky
And sleep all day in a mantle of clouds,
Waiting for the night to fall in love
With itself again, so you can drop
And express yourself in silent flight
Swathed in moonlight and a hunger
That is both holy and full of becoming more
Than you are now.