Two Earths

There are two earths
one is but a map, a contrivance of mind,
a technical floor, the mere ground we stand for,
a doormat of skyscrapers, factories, oceans of oil

What happens when the Mother enters,
her Moon flooding the deep green valleys
skimming the surface of the greater waters?
The shame is much to bear before her Honor.

There are places on the map where no one sees,
and where all our shame and misery can be,
for a map cannot describe almost everything.
A wasteland is its own punishment enough.

Yet there is no soul that doesn’t believe in the divine,
for souls cannot believe that they are not themselves,
and atheists use their arguments as whips and chains:
by blood and fang, they chant of a dark godless Moon.

But the souls who can listen know what is true,
as the Mother enters the room, all anguish begins,
the guilt, the negligence, the seven deadly sins:
all bear weight upon the souls who could have loved.

But just as corpses grow more rotten in the sunlight,
so too do the ways of old that choose greed over love.
Sunglasses will not curb the ultraviolet rays of Source
And so allow the pain of death to give its debt to life.

Then all can choose sacred love for sacred ground
honorable as the great gorilla; gentle as delicate fawn:
breath the air, drink the water, build as flowers build,
sing the chorus of every cell, the swan song of Her Will.

Water of Love

Water and Earth give each other form,
without Water, She’d pour dry as sand,
without Earth, She’d rain never to land
without each other, they’d nowhere be

Water is home in cupped hands of Earth,
for She is the chalice from which we live,
while Fire visits only from the safest sight
behind Air’s cool gates does he ever alight

yet that the Four are separate is not so
for Love’s Will binds the above to below,
flowing together: Earth, Water, Air,  Fire
they share the work of that watchful Sire

and Water allows Earth to be Her flow
a supportive sea are richest soils sowed,
the seeds and the roots of great trees,
floating, feed in her denser dark waters

and Water grants Air to stream from afar
currents in the galaxy of the Brightest Star
even informing Him into the mighty clouds
swirling pregnant till swift thunder sounds

finally, Water gives soft sunshowers to Fire
to excite inspiration, from the will to desire,
teaching Him to live gentle upon the Earth
to enchant in kisses all that she has birthed.


animals know the ways of the dove,
giving their lives to mysterious love,
producing what others want to consume
the circle of life: we want to honor it
the circle of life: we curse it

which is it, my love, which is it?

even sparrows know the way they must go
driven away from the storm and snow
with no anger in their hearts they depart
in order to come back to start again
for sunlight inspires their magnificence

songs sing into streams of bliss and woe
rivers carry them far into ocean coves
what love removes, love always returns
what love embraces, love will then spurn
fearless as the doves of the ethereal skies
who rush back down to the denser climes
never too high or too proud to now return
seeing what’s won is lost, to laugh, to cry.

burnt offerings

your mind only remembers inside its judgment,
its nay or its yea is a postscript to every thought
but your heart understands all is love regardless
where your feet have traveled upon this earth,
rooted in the soil even as they scurry along
day after day, week after week, years, and lives
you have walked in the forest of autumn times
who ever look forward to your annual return,
should you release these to annual offerings burned
these that bind your heavenward heart to ground
as crumbled leaves songs strange and rhythmic sound
beneath your feet they are willing to be swept along
ready to be buried as remains to earth and sky-song
feeding holy ground, the air, the love, every ocean.