On mothers day for Mother Earth

 ( To mother earth on mothers day, first draft. )

Being Gaia

The woodland sleeps by day, lulled
by a summer's breeze that dapples sun
light pulling new life through decay
on wood strewn floor. Dreamy bluebells
nod and bow, tantalise with scent
of hyacinth wafting on the breeze.
In treetops song birds orchestrate
a lullabye for owl to while away the day
till setting sun brings out hungry rodents
on the run to avoid becoming owls prey.

I meditate and pray with Gaia
 
Spared the plough hedgerows harbour life 
among wild flowers, primrose, aconites,
sweet violet followed by wild strawberry
sweet pink briar and stray hops twine
through hazel elder, bullace and sloe
feed squirrels, field mice, and rabbits
who scamper about natures corridors
their burrows protected by brambles,
bearing abundant rich purple berries

I'm grateful for your being my Gaia


the meadows sit quietly and listen
to the change in seasons, in winter
sparkle with hoar frost, in summer
wear a golden shower of buttercups
dotted about with purity of daisy's,
nodding with papery red poppies,
later fired up in autumn's russet robe
of sorrel seed, followed soon after
by frothy head of creamy grass seed.

I love your many faces dear Gaia

The marshes lay supine, subservient
to a prevailing wind that bends trees
over to it's will.  Still waters in ditches
wick into rich grasses where sheep graze
Damp rises in a haze, round freshwater
ponds where canada geese come in to land,
at migrations journey's end, a place to feed
to raise their young,increase their seed.

Your spirit lives in our seeds sweet Gaia.