Tag Archive: discovery

Sufficiently Undernourished



It is when I’m carrying my most weight that I am profoundly undernourished. I do not speak of the physical, though certainly it factors in. I am talking about enrichment. Soul nourishment. Love. Care. Empathy. I give it away—


To him, and her, and them. To all. I feed everyone around me graciously with what I need, and it brings such joy to witness joy, such sorrow to see discontent. To feel gratitude, I want to give gratitude. To be the furnace in winter, wood on the fire, for those coming home with cold toes.


I must confess, however, from time to time I desire a return. A warm afghan… Surely sometimes one must want. It is human, and I am not God whom has no worries, but cry out silently from the heart. Hope someone notices: Please take care of me. Not in every moment like a child, or a pathetic Alzheimer’s patient (my fear that’s how my prayers will be answered), but a few scattered generous moments so that I too may experience the pleasure of comfort, feel secure, fueled by a tenderness capable of building strength to go forward. I could build empires on such goodness! Dreams would be awakened into blessed realities, diminish the current status quo.


Life could be a country cottage set on a path of greenery. Honeysuckle scented. Wildflowers with all of the answers: Lemonade and butterflies!


I am not broken, or by any means defective, but coming-apart, yes, in tainted pieces by way of life’s harsh blow’s. One by one, stories that affect a psyche. As if a bee searches nectar in the snow, the death of a queen—


I cried today because the summer is here in all of its glory, and I am not pretty for it. I wished for and waited for it. The freedom of the warm sun would come with resolve. All of winter’s tribulation could not survive a lightheaded month of July. I would not be burdened by wool’s itching to be a pastel, but come alive – a festival. A carousel of laughter, like a rainbow in clearing skies, would distance the remnants of pain and tears. But I waited too long.

I didn’t water the flowers in spring. I watched them grow and die, colors of red and yellow hope. I didn’t know how to sow anymore. Perhaps it was not knowledge missing but heart. A clever excuse to mask fear: Thorns that cut my skin deeply each time I tried in the past.


It’s the change of seasons inside of me that are stuck. Like a broken record, I’m listening to yesterday’s music like an aging ballerina in a box, ’round and ’round. Waiting for someone to fluff her tutu. Shine her up!


I want to come un-perched and fly to Jupiter, with a smile above my chin, full of wisdom. Leave every regret behind, ablaze, for earth to bury in the soil with my worn out skin.


Grow a tree for humanity in my name.


©Maria DellaPorte 2016 All Rights Reserved



Brilliant Orchestrators

They come like stars.

See them there in the thousands:

Limitless discovers.

…Could be death or the wind.


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,

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

Into the collective energy,
a minuet.

I am here,
in a studio,

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

You there in Milan,
and Arkansas…

All over and beyond,
unique as imagination,

identical by a thread.

That is the question and answer:


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