Gaia’s Elliptical Dreams
A poem about that little pale blue dot in space
She spins and spins
never does she stop
elliptically upon her crest
the blue, white, green dress
we swing with it
as our spirits doth shine.
Through its tempest
uncertainties of
strewn out decreed primes,
slithers forthwith to
an evening of benign
remembrance.
A path of two now one
a focal point of fires
forever vex the living dry.
And did we chose
the wrong path
so long ago?
For as we spin upon
her breast, feeling
the beating of her core
Forever to rest
eye closed
to the violence,
and suffering, I do attest
that our spirits,
even when buried,
contain that which is
blessed.
In her living core
amorphous flows, and
magnetic instabilities bestow.
For a sphere is not
what our kinds doth show
as mathematical truths,
do submerge
For justice is blind,
upon each revolution,
And truth but a bat
in a cave waiting
for nightfall and the moon’s
gentle scythe.
© Bradley J Nordell 2020
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