Mother Earth is blushing,
Quiet now her voice,
For far off from a distant
Galaxy her pulse is caught,
Soothed and slowed,
Owed reception of her feelings and,
It’s difficult to know One’s
Beauty while weeping all alone,
Now leagues away in seas of space
A chariot is drawn,
Drawn by linear lines of light
To travel fast upon the globe,
Fetch a world of possibilities to heal a planet
Full of woe.
She tends her wounds,
Sitting there in silence while exhibiting
And though her thoughts of prison
Makes a creaking of restrictions
That cannot house the ‘free!’
A necessity of equals buries indifference
Deep in cavities of grief.
A rumble forms a proud,
Hastening the healing as the king
Adorns his crown.
“These people, scratching
Memories of peace faint beneath the sky;
Are worthy more an unreality of quickening
To die, why do they go to war?
Why do they take for nothing the fantastical
Of life that walks the soil?”
Blushing now but
Keen to see beneath her suitors robe,
Her timeless orbit of unrelenting sacrifice,
Her fertility of natures choice,
Her welcoming of paradise
Makes certain all who walked alone.
Such tiresome of battledom,
The magic of her maker
Cradling all her best of thought.
One world soon celestial in its
Makes difference to existence,
Makes development insistent,
One word to save humanity on more
Than just this globe;
Her recognition of this pounding heart,
Whispered through the galaxy,
Uttered once upon her lips,
Quiet now in disbelief,
The word to tend her gentle soul,
Repeated through each universe,
The word almost forgotten;
The end of all we’ve hidden from,
The beginning and beginning and beginning; LOVE!
Michael J Waite 2nd December 2009. 0442hrs