Tag Archive: Gaia


Cherita August 10, 2017

The bird on the holly bush

Low to the ground singing
to elders in alder branches

From your vantage, do you see hope?
Show me then, where to fly
Pray, please guide me

Chagall 2017

Advertisements

i return to my device and the word application asks
want to save? implying my previous work unsaved,
i reply Yes for i trust my earlier self enough
to have made some excellent changes

Chagall 2017

Testimony #1

Today, I witnessed and sensed a small bird’s fear
to have a red-shouldered hawk alight
upon an adjacent branch

Chagall 2017

 

Butterfly 2.0

if you and i were hummingbirds
you would never alight at the feeder
but instead would draw nectar pulsing midair wildly
frenetic and i would simply perch, sip, occasionally peek
over our shoulders

to the jet stream, my dear?

© Chagall ∞

Communal Living

Every year around this time witnesses the return of
the cicada killer wasps: their sole purpose in life is
to fight, even to die, in the war against cicada.

They land their bodies on my hot pavers, the straight-away
between the porches is a landing field for sassy doughboys,
chewing gum, sun in their eyes, alive another day.

I get out the hose and assist them in training, parrying
with sprinkler and jet and soaker settings, preparing them for
aerial bug-fight, cicadas are fierce opponents
with an innate understanding of prime numbers.

I had a huge party this weekend and I gathered the cicada killer wasps
around and I told them it was the front of the house for the rest of the day
and they listened. That night while packing up the tent and the chairs
they came back and settled into their usual spot. The leader,
oddly one of the youngest, came over and said, “You miss everybody,
i can tell,” hovered a moment and then flew off to the shade of the boxwoods.

© Chagall ∞

Nine Tenths

In my backyard, the sunlight that shines there
is mine.

© Chagall ∞

1 Ticket, 1 Ride

Find a hill, a dimple of land, lie down,
wedge your cheek into the hollow
of rich organic debris, breathe
deeply the years of the regolith
beneath you, grind your pelvis
to bedrock, mold to gravity’s
pull, feel yourself ride
the earth, Gaia ’round
and around

Wheeee! See!
We’re falling!

© Chagall ∞

All In A Ray Of Sunshine

The kids outside are playing their version of fear factor,
lying down in lavender amid dozens of lazily fuzzy bees.

© Chagall ∞

I Am Ground

Lost high atop clouds
Below rich colored soils
Rock, sand, silt, and clay

Angular, blocky
Mother’s rich in organics
Endless horizons

Infiltrate the ground
Seep red from leaching iron
More dense than porous

Root to me firmly
Here in the space of no air
Within the solid

© Chagall ∞

Dearest Gaia

I pour water into the earth to watch it dissipate and percolate,
wondering where does the time go. The backs of my beach shoes

worn flat from my habit of not slipping in all the way,
my bare feet on warmed wood slats tell me I’m more alive now,

the sun underfoot, I am square, balanced atop the regolith,
a planet that spins and falls amid a din that I no longer hear,

the world that I see

as I follow the fan of my hand, implies all that there is
or nothing, depending solely on who I am, or no one.

© Chagall ∞

%d bloggers like this: