Her poetry is beauty and music in motion,
Her breeze, multi-lingual, a continual re-visioning.
Some days she brings her power to the page
As an aromatic out-breath.
Other days she rains soft tears, or hails
A jazzy rendition, a syncopated beat against tin roofs,
Or sings through wintry-whispers:
The sting and silence of snow.
Mother’s persona is impeccable.
What themes her poetry designs …
She dreams night after night,
Her storied life, her artistry: windy howls
As bereft as an outcast … and yet …
Gaia plants and watches over Lives that grow:
Her stanzas misting a parade of fragrant flowers,
Rainbow colors: violets, hyacinths, peonies and more,
A fruitage of crops and vines, grapes and berries
For health and love … her wise trees bearing maple
Syrups, peaches and plums, walnuts and pecans:
Aphrodisiacs, elixirs, ambrosias
To sweeten and sustain the living of all beings …
Then after Lives pass, her soil holds
Bodies and souls, bodies and souls,
Her dreams, her poetry: a harem of love …
Mother Earth’s bounty bound to bodies and souls.
For centuries now: our bodies and souls
Bonded and bound to Mother Earth’s soil … her soul.