Reassembling
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
You know something.
When everyone rises
From the dead on the first day,
And the dancing starts–
Even as bones are rejoining
With golden bands and golden thread,
The earth will sigh
The deepest sigh—
A sigh like the dawning sun
On a shimmering sea,
And she will weep for all
She gave birth to, for all
She cradled in their death,
For all, who, upon hearing
Mercy’s music, will reassemble
In shifts of light—whirling
Dervishes in a New Jerusalem,
Little galaxies of arms opening
To possibilities—the forgiving ones,
One and all, forgiven
In the dance of deepest sighs.