Rumbling from her belly,
Her love growing from the depth of her anger,
She is bigger and
than all of us.
And I witness her rage,
Grass growing through the
Her assertion of taking up space.
Part 2 – Can’t You Hear Her?
“The blue sky is her mind, the green leaves pulse with her blood, the wind is her breath, the rain, her water of life. She is Gaia, the Earth Mother, but also subtler than that.” – Ram Dass
You told me (tucking your body in tightly, looking at the ground)
that you couldn’t dance
knowing of her ongoing rape,
and corporate judgements.
You looked past me, because I was too small to love,
And you had boxed yourself too tightly into rage,
Screaming into your pillow at night,
Rocking back and forth is sobs.
You told me that you were afraid of
like every woman who breaks my
silence late at night,
falling into the insanity of rage,
warranting straight jackets
in a cold, white room.
You told me that you were too
dark to love.
I love you, because you are the darkness of Gaia’s corners,
the wilderness of hurricanes and
And yet, you and I, we are also
both maple keys,
burying ourselves into the soil,
imagining our future as two
entwining trees, grounded but spreading,
celebrating our rebirth.