Meditation<\/p>\n
By<\/p>\n
Radiance Angelina Petro<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
In the memory<\/p>\n
there are many roads<\/p>\n
pointing in many directions,<\/p>\n
as in a crumpled<\/p>\n
piece of paper.<\/p>\n
Along each bent furrow<\/p>\n
is a tiny clot of ink,<\/p>\n
waiting for the warm touch<\/p>\n
of necessity<\/p>\n
to loosen it, unfold<\/p>\n
and spread open<\/p>\n
the map, allowing the words<\/p>\n
to form, to lift, and scatter, like<\/p>\n
a flock of sleeping birds<\/p>\n
startled from the trees,<\/p>\n
giving the world<\/p>\n
what was written down<\/p>\n
and forgotten.<\/p>\n
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