Gaia, our infinite, proud, generous host and observer. One who stands alone or, one of many? Were you born from another, does your mother sing the songs you remember from your birth close by? Does the sun warm your face and the rain feed your body, does the night time promote rejuvenation or, have we squatters eaten our way through your resolve and laid you bare?
Your voice, heard by billions yet recognised by a mere handful. Messages sent in a language well versed and rehearsed and yet still goes unnoticed. We are oblivious to your plight, deaf to your calls, rendered blind by our own greed, our innate desire to own, lust after, rape and dominate.
You are no prize to own nor unwrap.
When all is still, when lions sleep and hyenas cease their mocking laughter, you remain the one constant, the one energy with which our world turns.
In solitude, fight for you?
Your voice, heard by billions yet recognised by a mere handful. Messages sent in a language well versed and rehearsed and yet still goes unnoticed. We are oblivious to your plight, deaf to your calls, rendered blind by our own greed, our innate desire to own, lust after, rape and dominate.
You are no prize to own nor unwrap.
When all is still, when lions sleep and hyenas cease their mocking laughter, you remain the one constant, the one energy with which our world turns.
In solitude, fight for you?