I Don’t Know How I Know This, By Jennifer Angelina Petro

I Don’t Know How I Know This

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Inside the uplift of death—that moment–

When the white doors open

You will fly out of yourself long enough

To fly back into yourself in one terrible

And freeing inhaling exhale.

Daffodils lose their vibrant trumpets

To the sunlight, irises curl in on themselves

And alliums drop their radiating, purple petals to the ground.

Cherry blossoms scatter their thousand, million pink pieces

Of exquisite beauty into a spring wind that rouses

The mind to start moving on those plans laid out in winter,

And you cannot help but stare, and weep with such joy the moment

Uplifts and white doors open, and you fly into yourself

Long enough to fly back out yourself in one orgasmic,

Eternal—breath-catching inhaling exhale.

And when the sidewalks become dusted

In deep pink—so much so you cannot see the gray ground—

White doors open and you fly out of yourself long enough

To never return to the state of unnoticing.

Every moment we build up and break down,

We dissolve, we sag closer to the earth,

Our muscles loosen, our jaws slacken,

And we become like fragile, spring birds long enough

To breathe into ourselves, long enough

To exhale one last time into the air—

Just strong enough to blow open the white doors

And get swept up into the uplift where all the trumpeting

Daffodils wait, where all the irises unfurl

Their sex to the sky, where all the alliums burst

Purple bulbs from their tall, slender stalks, like

Slow motion fireworks—

There you will stay long enough

To bloom the fragrance

Of a life well lived into the ever spring

Of God.

 

 

 


 



Foundations

Foundations
By
Joseph Anthony Petro

 

Listen, O ears of my soul–
Hear past sounds and any meaning
The mind gives those sounds,
Listen through the chatter
And traffic, and everyday sonancy
To the Foundation Song
Exhaling steadily through all creation.

Look, O eyes of my soul,
See past appearances and any judgments
The mind assigns the images,
See through replicas and glitter,
And shifting shadows
To the Foundation Light
Shining steadily through all creation.

Taste, O tongue of my soul,
Discern past flavors and any cravings
The mind makes you think
You must obey.
Savor through the empty calories,
The sweetness and bitterness,
And everyday seasonings
To the Foundation Bread
Nourishing steadily all creation.

Feel, O body of my soul–
Breathe past fear and any memories
That say you shouldn’t experience bliss,
Rise past shame and the torturous ideas
That pleasure is somehow wrong
To the Foundation Joy
Cresting steadily through all creation—
Spilling you, emptying you, filling you,
Lifting you to sink into heaven’s bed
Where you are allowed to desire desire,
Where you are allowed to be ravished
And to ravish, where it is safe to lose yourself
And find yourself in the rapturously
Catching breath of the Beloved.