GAIA . . .maybe a poem

GAIA--the earth

You are Gaia -- a goddess? perhaps, but more than that.
You claim to be the whole of everything within and on and
about the Earth. You live in flesh and air, in stone and
diatoms floating in the sea.

You are orphaned . . . . your predecessors unknown.
Perhaps there were none and you spontaneous
birth out of great expanses of space and it's
endless matrix of dust and stars,.

Deep within you are bubbling masses, molton rock hot
red death growing and pressing against your walls,
forcing, pressing, utimately breaking loose,
streaming forth upon your tough outer skin, to build, to destroy,
reshape all within your path making mountains,
transforming self into something other.

Gaia, restless, changing, ever growing,
shrinking, exploding, and coming together again, forever
becoming. . . .somethings?

I am Gaia as are you and you and you and the rocks
and the sea and the plastic keyboard on which I write. We
gaze into the endless dark of night and wonder why it is so
dark, so cold, yet bright with the light of other worlds.

Are these, too, are GAIA. Are they your
parents, are they your family, your own, our own, to beget us and
our world?.

We ask questions. You have much to tell us, but we are
not ready to understand .We seek, we quest. We
dig in the earth. bringing up the bones of our predecessors.
are these GAIA? Is this you oh Goddess of everything?

What of the times when you rumble fiercely deep within
your bowels and bring forth hot red blood?
You destroy plants and animals, melting rock , steaming
boiling
away the seas, destroying self. Is this you in a frenzy of creation
singing your song?

Here I sit in my plastic chair in my plastic world. Even it is
made from the oil within you, created from plants, rotten to
become the coal and oil beneath your skin. The metals and
woods have been wrought by you and brought forth for our
use. Our very flesh is yours, given jealously with a limit on
its life before it changes, disintegrates into dust or is eaten
to become flesh again.

Everything is connected. My wandering spirit feels your
presence, especially when the skies glow with the setting
of the sun or the electromagnetic curtains of the northern
lights.
.
The Greeks called the earth GAE and the sky, UR,
floating in a chaotic soup until accidental forces
brought them together to make order, to create the Titans
and their offspring, symbols of the human condition as we
know it. Is this you GAIA?

CREATION, the story of Adam and Eve , finds them naked
in the garden , innocent of their destiny, their flesh and it's
purpose.

How could gaia not know her basic nature, to give birth,
to nurture, grow and to change. Smiling to yourself you sent a
serpent with the vital message and we have all suffered
since. What was begun in innocence has become
sophistry and pain.

Gaia intends only to change, create, nurture
and destroy, a spiral of spirit and life, chaotic,
without course.
In the end there is no GAIA,
there are only the imaginings
of the human mind and spirit.

There is only, ME.