Face of Gaia, a Poem

For My Pagan Friends

Face of Gaia


It's time now,

for the coverup;

Jesus was a Pisces, his sigil, fish,

The Marys, Mother or whore,

No fun middle, there...

virgin birth, no less,

as if the seeded birth is any

less a miracle,

I cannot touch these gods,

children without sex,

homes with no walls,

on clouds sprayed out

by Constantine,

Thomas true, no word by you ?

The Magdalene, they go too far.

I the Christian, and no wise farce,

prepare for hell, that jagged reach,

Why only say, Yeshua Bar Yusef,

That I heard a little voice today.

And it was animism at best Christ,

I could aspire to, unless, you too,

were an earthbound mortal, crying in the wilderness

I will pay the price of truth, and you knew that,

and you are still here. With me., Then,

My God, go a way with me.



There was before you, dirt and light ,

water and time...

Gaia says;


once I was a dragon,

speaking esoteric drawls to quasars,

keep up, lesser gods,

the Goddess speaks of midnight,

I delight

of all living things.

I am the breath, the moment

of peace;

I'm the birch-scroll which shines phosphor

in the light,

I am fiddlehead fern, nautilus to spring,

Stop me Christ!

When I have lied!

You made that brain.

She said, I knew you, before you knew you.

I knew you would walk fields of bluebells,

they smell like oranges at mid day,

you would stand in a stream

from light to light,

just to see the trees begin to dance,

and carry a raven bundle for years,

She says; I watched dawn and dusk slip by

for many ages, the opposites of the same stream,

only moth wings...

Step lightly on Gaia.

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