Meditation in C<\/p>\n
by<\/p>\n
Radiance Angelina Petro<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The day slowly closes its doors and shadows begin<\/p>\n
taking up residencies around park benches and dishes left in the sink,<\/p>\n
evening drapes silver in the willow\u2014not unlike the streaks of silver in my hair,<\/p>\n
the growing darkness makes the heaps of buildings and abandoned factories<\/p>\n
into asylums of shadow. Thunder sounds a blast, and lightning creates<\/p>\n
little skirmishes between what you think you see and what is actually there.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It is important for me to remember<\/p>\n
darkness is susceptible to light,<\/p>\n
and breaks easily. No matter how dark the night gets<\/p>\n
moonlight fringes treetops and gardens,<\/p>\n
and no matter how heavy the bundles<\/p>\n
of shadows on my back become, light has gone<\/p>\n
mountain hunting, and will return tomorrow<\/p>\n
to begin its careful workmanship on another day.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I know there is necessary darkness, and morning can be recklessly sudden<\/p>\n
and bright, so before the avalanches of rain begin to fall, I let the night<\/p>\n
shepherd me to my door, and I forfeit the day for the reverence of fear.<\/p>\n
You see, dreams are coming to carry me down shoals of rivers<\/p>\n
flying towards the sea. Everything in my head will become disheveled<\/p>\n
even before I take off my clothes, and someone will swear me to secrecy,<\/p>\n
and I will find myself just outside the garden of Eden, where I will look down<\/p>\n
and find the serpent\u2019s tooth, and wonder how I will ever make it across the long<\/p>\n
diameter of woods. This happens almost every night, and I end up kneeling among<\/p>\n
salamanders and sylphs, only to begin swaying until I slump over,<\/p>\n
giving myself up to the old theologies of guilt.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But maybe this time, the silver in my hair<\/p>\n
will be ungovernable, and I will hear<\/p>\n
the deep melodies of blood flowing<\/p>\n
through my veins, and I will snatch up the ember<\/p>\n
that has spirited from the day, and perhaps,<\/p>\n
with a tinge of the demonic, stand<\/p>\n
through the little shiverings, and<\/p>\n
embroider the night with fire.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Meditation in C by Radiance Angelina Petro The day slowly closes its doors and shadows begin taking up residencies around park benches and dishes left in the sink, evening drapes silver in the willow\u2014not unlike the streaks of silver in my hair, the growing darkness makes the heaps of buildings and abandoned factories […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[12],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2683"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2683"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2683\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2684,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2683\/revisions\/2684"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2683"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2683"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2683"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}