They come like stars.

See them there in the thousands:

Limitless discovers.

…Could be death or the wind.

Multiplying—

Perhaps it is love or happiness,
like the pink of a cherry orchard:

You walking there in denim,

with your thoughts mind you—

It’s not necessary to understand,
although sometimes I do…

See it like the green in your eyes.

It’s the song I hear—

And without hesitation sing,
with reverence for all.

This is what I’m meant to do:

Transcribe the language
of little orbs,
red and yellow and bluish-green.

Their benevolence,
intelligence—

Carry that weightlessness,
to be disbursed into vast pools
of universes.

Into the collective energy,
a minuet.

I am here,
in a studio,
listening,…

The sun through slanted blinds,
like a carpenter’s brilliant hands
on my oak floors.

You there in Milan,
Toronto,
India,
Switzerland,
Israel,
Belize,
and Arkansas…

All over and beyond,
unique as imagination,

identical by a thread.

That is the question and answer:

Omnipotent—

Like particles in a memory bank,
preservation for a future we can’t know.

The world in a nutshell—

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2014 All Rights Reserved

green-orb1-750x562

Advertisements