Sunflower in the Dark, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Sunflower in the Dark

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

At night sunflower

bow your head,

so your seeds look

longingly at the ground.

 

Open

your palms so the moon can fill them

with silver light—its drapery liminal

and gauzy, persuading

water to rise to your roots.  It is important.

 

The night says so.  You are

a flower.  You are

radiant.  You are

still growing.

you still carry the future. Remember

the sky.

 

Allow me

to hold you,

in the soft shawl of my arms, allow me

to touch your face

with starlight.  You are

still capable of leaning

into the wind and staying

strong.  You are

holy, so sway,

and sway—

feel that—feel the cool night wind.

 

And know this: you will

turn your face to the sun again, you will

be drenched in light.  You will.

You will.

 

 

 


Chosen

Chosen
By
Joseph Anthony Petro

 
The thing is
No one believes me.
How the fireflies dazzled their way
To my back screen door, like
A galaxy spiraling towards me.
No one believes their light
Became so strong, so blinding
It simply crossed the threshold
Into my kitchen, gathered me up
In its arms, and lifted me outside
Into the night, and upwards, passed the trees,
Higher, into the clouds of moonlit angel hair,
And higher, to the stars,
Where suddenly it let me go
And still I kept rising, and the mass of fireflies sang—
(I didn’t know fireflies sang),
And I rose to their shimmering chorus up,
Up until the moon grabbed me out of the sky
And swirled me over and over in her jet black hair
As a spider tumbles a fly in a web,
And I laughed as she spun me, for her hair
Was soft as wind, and she sang like the fireflies
An uncluttered lullaby—pure, incandescent, like
Rays of sunlight beaming through a morning forest,
And the more she wove, the more I could breathe,
And her song bathed around me every bit
As softly as her hair, and when she finished,
And I had tumbled one last time
I found myself drifting to sleep in her satin shrouded arms,
And somewhere nearby I could see
The fireflies forming a ring around us,
Encircling us in diamonds and glittering sapphires,
And I could feel her chest rise and fall
As she too began to sleep,
And the dreams we had that night
Were unlike any I have ever had.
To say they were resplendent
Would be putting it mildly—they were dreams
Of pure, radiant light—my mind and soul blazed
With brilliance, sang with silver, rang with bells
Of crystal, and I knew things—answers
To things—questions exploded like fireworks
And then drizzled towards me like
Ribbons of fireflies—because they were fireflies—
Each and every one of my questions was a firefly,
Every one of the answers was too,
And I knew right then and there,
Asleep in the arms of the moon,
Guarded by a legion of fireflies,
That the world, no matter how dark,
No matter how light, was made of light–
Light brighter than we could ever imagine, light
That made the darkness darker so as to illuminate
The way for angels carrying candles, light
That made the sun seem playfully small,
Light that made my problems and their solutions become bubbles of dew,
And everything, everyone was the chosen one,
Every atom, cell, strand of dancing DNA
Was chosen, and lit up from within
With a heavenly darkness,
And loved beyond measure,
Loved beyond fear, loved beyond doubt,
Loved beyond the wildest passions
One could ever hope for—loved beyond belief.
I knew these things asleep in the arms of the moon.
And when I woke I was in my bed,
And when I stood I stumbled,
And when I stumbled I stayed on my knees
And thanked the moon, the fireflies, the stars,
And when I rose to go tell the world
How the answers and the questions—how
Your heart and my heart, your body and my body, your soul
And my soul, your mind and my mind, are all made of light,
How we are all chosen, how we are all known,
And that the way to letting your light shine
Is to go, go through the darkness,
Go through the darkness
Until you sleep in the arms of the moon, like
A baby–when I rose to tell the world
I heard you say, what good will it do?
It’s not about good, I replied. It’s about knowing
That somehow, someway we are all OK,
We are all light destined for light, to hatch into light.
So right now, in this place, in this moment in time and space,
Take my hand, and rejoice, and go, I said,
Go into the darkness—
Run, stumble as I did, stumble for years if you have to, just go,
I will be by your side. Go until you see them—
Angels carrying candles, fireflies lanterning the path,
The moon opening her arms. Go.
Go and be loved by light swaddled in darkness until your own self-love
Dawns like a summer morning in the night of your self-hate.
I know. You’re right. I was wrong about what I said
At the beginning. I know you believe me.

 

 

 


 

 

 





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.

 

 


 

 

 





Any donations go to me, trying to write for a living and pay the bills. 

Growing Down

Growing Down
By
Joseph Anthony Petro

 
Weep tender heart, weep.
Every tear you cry lifts the crushing weight
From your chest and drops away
Chains from your hands and feet
And heart.
You
Did
Nothing
Wrong.
Weep, tender heart, weep.
Hold my hand and dive into the folds
Of the dark waters of your pain.
You will not drown in sorrow;
You will not drown at all.
You will blossom in the depths, like
A manta ray, like a rose of white light, like
A lotus of moonlight with roots of life-giving blood.
Weep, tender heart, weep.
Let your tears become one with the darkness,
Let your tears shed the layers of hatred
For your body, for your existence,
For the false reasons you came to believe you were born.
Release them. Release them and weep,
Weep, tender heart, weep. Know there are many
Weeping with you; there are many blossoming
With you; there are many loving you
Until you can love yourself; so weep
Fierce heart, weep.
And when you surface from the shadows,
Bursting forth with hope, and the earth-given-
Heaven-blessed-moon-drenched desire
For unity, wholeness, and the arms
Of your Beloved, your tears will be tears
Of joy. For you will be free,
And you will be alive, and you will be a child
With the heart of a man.