Death of Gaia

Dipped in the ink

of dreams half-forgotten,

Scribbled across a midnight sky

Angels dancing on the backs of dragons

as pitch black rain fills my eyes...

Giant swaths of my skin are ripped from my bones

as if removing the outer layer

will enable access to the understanding of my soul.

The cries of the smallest creatures,

the hairstreak butterfly

      the rusty patched bumble bee

            the eight-spot butterfly

                  the Kona giant looper moth

and countless others,

fill my ears with the crescendo of their silence.

Dark clouds--

not the life-bringing, heavy with rain, dark clouds--

but the ones that 

             vomit 

into the sky, 

cloyingly grasping

for every breath of fresh air.

The silence grows as the domino effect, 

               heralded by the silencing of the pollinators,

begins to cascade,

         quicker,

                    and quicker,

                                 and  quicker still.

I buck my earthen hips

straining to break free

belching forth fiery rivers of lava

raining lightning from the core of my being

weeping

as the slide to complete annihilation

 continues

         its

           extinctual 

                      path.

Self-preservation is paramount.

I fold in on myself,

preserving the essence of my core,

and begin to release the pieces that no longer serve me.

Sloughing off the detritus

Exfoliating the dead cells.

I will survive. 

I will let go of what continually destroys me. 

  I shed what I don’t need,

         don’t want,

              refuse to carry forward.

I continue my circling journey to hibernating self-preservation

letting centrifugal motion carry away the excess.

I hold what is essential to me

knowing that I can return

when death has removed the blemishes.

I will stretch into the new beginning,

allowing my being to expand, once again,

through dream-remembered skies.

    

Creation

The Space You Hold

Contains more than just you.

The space you hold

Encompasses width, height, death, birth.

The space you hold reaches to the end of the galaxy,

The edge of the Universe,

The innermost reaches of the soul.

The space you hold

Brings light to darkness,

A flow of equilibrium,

A quantum sense to the macro,

A macro view to the quantum.

The space you hold

Flies dragons to the moon,

Sees beyond the veil,

Sings up the rising sun,

Dances in the north wind,

Howls with the coyotes,

Kisses rainbows,

Tastes snow-capped mountains,

Runs across oceans,

Swims in unknown stars,

Holds a newborn baby with the gentle caress of the very first snowflake.

The space you hold

Is the space I reside in.

The space you dwell in,

Is the space I hold.

Because the space I hold,

Contains more than just me.

The space I hold

Circles back to where you are.

The space I hold

Explores the depths of my being,

Reaches for the stars,

Delights in the journey.

The space I hold

Looks to the future,

Regards the past,

Stands in place,

While touching every point in time.

The space I hold

Flies beneath the sands,

Flows above the southern lights,

Wraps up in the cherry blossoms,

Plays amongst the flames,

Cries into the hollow spaces,

Breathes in the summer rains,

Spins between the tumbling notes of a golden symphony,

Listens to the breath of a butterfly.

The space I hold,

Is the space you hold,

Is the space you hold,

Is the space I hold.

I hold my space,

And enmesh with the space you hold,

And we hold space,

For all that is.

In the Fields where Unicorns Play

In the fields where Unicorns play,
I spent my youth and childhood days;
dancing with fairies,
singing with nymphs,
exploring the world on gossamer wings.

Springtime winds held autumn leaves.
Winter snows kissed summer trees;
laughing at goblins,
hiding from trolls,
basking in the sun with star-kissed ravens.

Dragons and Hawks anchor the sky.
Lightning soaked thunder slipstreams by;
breathing in Life,
exhaling Joy,
spinning magic to set my imagination free.