Tag Archive: #wisdom


God, The Tree, and I

mighty-giant-tree

One— God the tree and I —

Feminine and masculine nature. 

In love become branches, stories…

Honey to the bee.

Sting of death: A sincere part of everything,

mountains, galaxy…

The way it transforms, reestablishes connections.

Earth, flesh, fish in the sea.

Universe – A trunk full of treasure.

God —the wind before the tree:

Color me, please, an orange leaf —

I want to fall into seasons,

veins accelerated with the blood of life,

though never into time’s unending cruelty.

M e m o r y

You in the womb—

Heart beating.

Soil’s rich history, nutrients,

enthusiastically expand our roots.

When I am the bark, hardest on, “Myself,”

forgetting…

Grow a forest inside of my heart.

Remind me I am you,

to be soft sapwood beneath.

Innately understanding generations,

external, internal.

Home to a bird, a squirrel rushing

to safety along my waistline.

Let it all be a rainstorm. Stars.

Grass green with wisdom beneath.

I am all of these things…

Gravity’s soul – A blossom

Crown sturdy upon her head.

Boy taking cover in the shade,

about to climb his destiny.

-Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

Recently viewing photographs of the famous mosque in Iran,

and considering a question as to what the caption could be…
Nasir-al-Mulk-Iran

My reply:

Light lends us the ability of vision should we choose to open our eyes

and see the beauty of color, and shape of the soul,

otherwise felt flourishing in the heart.

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Yes, color, light, darkness, and the gift of sight (from the soul).

I see in rainbows my friend, I see…

Ominpotent—

The world can be a prism or a prison!

Shhh-Large

—Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2015 All Rights Reserved

(I do not own any rights to the public photographs)

A Bird –

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Today you are a bird—

The thin and crooked smile has disappeared,

replaced by a pointed beak.

It knows…

The trees, they are your home,

and the wind a best friend.

Call on her like magic,

sail with ease into the gap:

No time.

No death.

No broken heart—

Everything found is free,

and crumbs, they are so satisfying.

Thank you!

Though, I’ve no idea who you are?

I merely exist on my own accord,

that I am in fact, a bird:

Nesting.

Searching worms.

Singing—

On a limb and in Heaven…

The air, the air,

is ours to breathe.

God giving life,

or is it I?

Whatever your interpretation,

language…

As long as we are free to fly—

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2014 All Rights Reserved

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In Light of the New Year –

I don’t know if everything is the same as it has always been, and each step is in a direction we already know of instinctively, or if things are in constant transformation awaiting our discovery; If the universe is inside of us, growing with each beat of our hearts, or if we are merely a part of it, a link in the chain of knowledge desiring to be pertinent.  And we are…

It’s 2013, 14, 25… and yesterday was 1857, 1942, 63, 79, 86…  B.C./A.D.  Someone was born of importance, and others died old and aching, young and wanting… Everyone broke someone’s heart.   An event changed everything.  Your grandmother was there, my father, Washington, Martin Luther, John Lennon, Mother Theresa, and Jesus. They built us; and then there was Hitler and Lucifer, who tried to destroy us, but the moon went down over the sea and the sun rose again over the mountains, as it ever shall be world without end.  So we grow and sing and cry.  We conquer and cave. Lose and win.

We are here in New York and New Delhi, in Asia, Spain, Turkey, Norway, Jerusalem and Italy… but these places we call home are but merely fragments of earth that belong to the stars.  We are all born from a mother’s womb that will flourish with life and blood, then return to dust.  We are each other.  Connected.  In the palm of one another’s hands.  Hold me delicately, as I you.

Love stands alone.  It is the fuel of life and dreams.  I have loved you.

There is a universal sound of wisdom implanted in our brains that calls like a seashell humming to take us into the waves of consciousness.  I will meet you there… like a bell that has rung and echoes into the silence.  When it is dark, promise you’ll reach out for my hand and pull me from fear of the unknown.   I know in time we will be cast into the light once again, perfect and innocent, to become ourselves… a cosmic truth.

Author: Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte

Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved