Poetry: Ron Peat

Poetry: Francine Dvoracek

 

 

GAIA

What if
looking from above
my eyes are the
water lilies you see,
    and
my nose outlined by
the curvaceous neck of
the swan floating in eternal water,
    and
my mouth the o-rings
of disturbed fluidity ever
able to be refreshed, always
responding to disturbances even
so small as raindrops,
    and
the ground upon which
you rest the pillows of my
breasts and rocks only
the outcrops of bone?

What if
rivers are my veins and
volcanoes the power of
arterial pumping spewing
blood-lava to cells that need renewing,
    and
eternal wind the breathing rhythm
of my lungs with thunder like outbursts
of frustration or laughter for
your childlike ways,
    and
the warmth of sunshine my
smile upon you?

What if
the north were my ice-chrystal
clarity and pure intentions,
the south continent my womb lined
by red sands that shift and bleed.
And the east my spirit, the west my strength
and their embrace my unity?
What if,
coral were my sensitive fingertips
measuring the current of my feelings,
    and
clouds my doubts that
alternate with the light
of my more jovial moods?

What if
you are only the illusion
of my imagination for today
in the eternity of my being?

What if
You and I are one?