Clear as Day
Jennifer Angelina Petro
One never knows until never is up,
And then you know whatever it was
You didn’t know before never ran out.
It’s kind of like this: A firefly
Turns its own light on and off
In an effort to get your attention.
Certain questions act the same way—
Bobbing up and down, elusive—
Hints flashing among the dark trees;
Every so often, and often again—
Someplace different—a little to the left,
A little higher, and sometimes, seemingly,
Rising to the moon, all in an effort
To be followed.
Trick is—and it is a trick—keep watching
For the lights—they can bloom anywhere
In the fields of summer darkness;
When you see one, follow its green-tinted
Ribbon where ever it goes, as best you can,
And if you lose sight of it—disappointment,
Frustration—are perfectly valid responses.
Try and remember this:
When you fall asleep, and answers
Lift through the trees—out of reach—
Do your best to not give up.
Your dreams–along with a gathering of angels
And shadows—will ponder the questions for you,
And when morning comes, and the dawning sun shines,
It will all be clear as day.