Vestiges<\/p>\n
By<\/p>\n
Radiance Angelina Petro<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It was a soft beginning\u2014<\/p>\n
just his voice weaving<\/p>\n
invitations for me to live<\/p>\n
my way into his breathing<\/p>\n
and the spaces between the little<\/p>\n
pauses before he said: \u201cWell, brother,\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, sister.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
His love does not fit<\/p>\n
into practical life.\u00a0 He inclines<\/p>\n
to the marvelous, and so hearts<\/p>\n
careen towards him, turning<\/p>\n
the day-to-day upside down.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, I blunder ahead.<\/p>\n
My wants lead me where<\/p>\n
there is nothing to see but him.<\/p>\n
He uses the wear and tear of the seasons,<\/p>\n
and the fear blocking the entry of light<\/p>\n
to awaken secrets of his always<\/p>\n
and everywhere grace.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The persistent art of his patience<\/p>\n
crosses thresholds of distance,<\/p>\n
snatching me from the edge<\/p>\n
of the maw of emptiness that touches<\/p>\n
everything I do.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I want a soft ending, where he<\/p>\n
lifts me, as he would a child,<\/p>\n
from the vestiges of memory,<\/p>\n
where all that is left is the eternity<\/p>\n
of his voice; where the only place<\/p>\n
left for me to go is the cradle of his arms.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n