Dust

The possibilities of dust are few,
for in and of itself it’s powerless,
since on its own there’s nothing it can do
but coat a surface as a lifeless dress.
Yet some dust has been shaped and breathed to life–
all creatures that now populate the Earth,
the countless species with which it is rife,
have had by way of this deep breath their birth.
But we forget that we were simply dust
before that breath had animated us,
and in our feeble powers put our trust,
though flesh becomes again what it once was.
O, Love, may I recall each time I breathe
that there’s no life except what You bequeath.

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Mario A. Pita

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Substance Holiness

You thought your thoughts were holier than things,
that matter was beneath what’s in your mind,
and lived for what your mind in bushels thinks
and what by way of thinking you could find.
You thought that matter was inferior
to thoughts that made you feel above the world
and cared more for your active mind’s interior
and stayed enclosed in it and not unfurled.
But when you touched a mass of tiny blooms,
you felt them holier than all your thoughts,
because they are God’s thoughts, and their perfumes
felt sacred wafting from the flower pots.
You found when into deep thoughts you were sinking,
Love’s world is holier than all your thinking.

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Mario A. Pita

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Crushes

I saved a worm my car was bound to crush,
escorting it on fingers to the grass—
beside the sterile driveway it was lush
and far from tires mobilized by gas.
A neighbor woman saw my rescue deed
and beamed a smile, saying, “That was nice.”—
attending to a helpless creature’s need
is good and just a moment will suffice.
The lucky worm was saved from being crushed,
but then I felt I had a crush on her,
and though to some that feeling may seem rushed,
this kind of crush is one that most prefer:
we can be crushed by something like a tire
or have a crush and fill with sweet desire.

Floral Vehicle

Mario A. Pita

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Volcanic

When molten thoughts welled up in me like lava,
I feared that they were who I really am,
so I would try to stifle them and have a
blockage in me like a river’s dam.
Yet I would often fear the dam would burst,
for you can’t stop eruptions with a cork,
so then I came to think myself the worst
while others thought of me as just a dork.
But now I understand geology
applies to minds no less than to a planet
and face my world in its entirety
from mental moltenness to soulful granite.
As world, I’m more than just a nice, soft crust,
but orbit You, Love, in wholeness and with trust.

Fire Softener

Mario A. Pita

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Mind Triplet

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Thought Weight

A thought can weigh as much or more than bricks,
as much as planets, stars, and galaxies,
and though it may seem true, it can play tricks,
and cloak the deeper, pure realities.
Intangible, amorphous, like a cloud,
it still can crush with its oppressive weight.
From outside, it seems silent, yet it’s loud
within a head, as part of mental state.
But you can take each with a grain of salt,
or if you want, some other condiment,
so when dark musings gather to assault,
you see them small, as no impediment.
Through piled thoughts like grains of sand you sift,
as though for specks of gold: the thoughts that lift.

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Mind Dominion

A day when thoughts assaulted you like thugs
who robbed you of your peace and gave you hell
and drained your life like big blood-sucking bugs
and made you feel you never would be well,
you chose to act in spite of their assaults
and planned for something beautiful to do,
although they clobbered you with all your faults
and those of life life and other people too.
Now when a thought assaults you like a bully,
no more within its thrall should you be held,
but heed the thoughts that aid you live life fully,
the ones that are for you, and others, help.
A thought can beat us up as with a fist.
Let’s heed instead the ones that can assist.

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Mental Disentanglement

Don’t be perturbed by thoughts assaulting you,
for thoughts are insubstantial, like a cloud,
though they insist there’s something you must do
to heed them when they’re riotous and loud.
You learn you needn’t heed your every thought
as though it were a vital, pressing thing,
since many quickly ripen and then rot,
you are not fooled by all the things you think.
When you have been assaulted by a thought,
you’ve tensed as though preparing for a fight,
and then within your troubled mind you’ve fought
and even kept yourself awake at night.
Your mind has been at times a battle scene.
Now you hear Love tell you, “Remain serene.”

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Mario A. Pita

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Impersonator

*
A plant adorned an unused fireplace
so that its leaves appeared to be green fire,
burning from a wicker-woven base,
striving, as plants do, for growing higher,
but also spreading, spilling, on the floor,
its stems and leaves extending left and right
like smoke expanding from a blazing core,
and though that fire gave no heat and light,
it warmed my soul and lit a darkened mood
as blazing plant life in an office meeting
where I was forced to sit for hours glued,
immersed in artificial light and heating.
I’m thankful for small beauties in my days,
as when a plant impersonates a blaze.

*
A plant which had convinced me it was real,
in fact was fake: I touched synthetic leaves
and then could easily and quickly feel
that it was false, yet part of me believes
that it was true, though not as it had seemed,
for in an office gloom it could inspire,
and in this I felt it had been redeemed,
and I could not regard it as a liar.
When man-made things impersonate a plant,
we may be disappointed as I was,
because it had deceived me, yet I can’t
resent it, noticing the good it does:
I felt the leaves and found that they were fake,
but there’s true beauty in what people make.

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Mario A. Pita

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Kinship

Your plate of scrambled eggs beneath the sun
gives off a slowly curling wisp of steam,
and it appears the scramble you have done
is sunlight that’s congealed. Though it may seem
that sun and yolk are different things by far,
they look like relatives, and you can see,
by way of matching colors, that they are
as kindred as a plant is to its seed,
for eggs could not exist without the sun,
and in this we’re no different from the eggs,
as it sustains the life of everyone
that has a pair of wings, or leaves, or legs.
When scrambled eggs give off a curling smoke,
you sense the sun’s deep kinship with the yolk.

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Mario A. Pita

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