Chronic Ritual

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Lying by the fire
Fueling my desire
Silently

Pouring tears on the ground
Behind a mask I found
Deniably

Kissing gusts of wind
In hopes it gets to him
Uselessly

Calling out his name
In the winter rain
So lonely

Holding me so tight
In the dead of night
Nobody

Dying by the hand
Of an older man
Happily

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GAIA

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Viscous fluid flow of umbral arms stretch desperately,
Confined to the roots of mustard trees sown asunder long ago,
Reaping its reward of dissociation, from man’s destruction,
Branded for eternity while blades of grass dance convivially,
Content while arching their necks to see the bright side of the darkness,
Shade rebukes the fate of the underbrush withering away,
Rays of sunlight ebb down between the reincarnated leaves,
Resilient viridescence,
Embrace their fears,
For my Mother Earth instructs her offspring of perseverance

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