the psychology of gaia


child of the sun and a passing star
born of violence with body of fire
chance occurence of the god's blind will
bright in the void of the cosmic chill

slowly she cooled and developed coarse skin
crusting and crumpling without and within
a motion so furious without ever a rest
her figure by gravity incessantly stressed



great was her pain, her flesh always torn
she felt only rage at having been born
she cursed the sun and screamed at the stars
and cried out her woe to Venus and Mars

her tears fell down and turned into steam
and allowed her to cool and drift into dream
in the heat of her anger, a mist cooled her view
she woke up delighted, with a new color, blue


her flanks of stone began to settle
and veins of ore and precious metal
crystallized out of the cooling stones
adding flesh to her massive bones

out in a pool some molecules were dancing
this way and that. cavorting and prancing
she watched with gaiety and in her eccentricity
flashed the soup with a jolt of electricity


to her delight some of these gyrating strings
began to twist together and form new things
and more and more they came together
at every turn creating new forms and better

she took them gently to her rocky bosom
planting them there as her skin soft and lissome
and when she looked at the mirror of the sky
she saw herself as she was: pubescent and sly


adolescent yearnings flooded her days
fecundity defined this profligate phase
she played with life as if it were a toy
waiting for something to bring her joy


she grew some lizards who ruled the world
but were gone in a blast from an asteroid hurled
nothing but gray and few small creatures
lived in the land with its fractured features

but now a new breed began its rise
and she found herself gazing with widening eyes
at hair-covered things with something new
ideas, words, and a new world view


excited at first, she welcomed these beings
who seemed like her to have depth and feelings
alone no more, she felt her first love
flying inside her like a gentle dove

millenia came and centuries flew
the numbers of hominids grew and grew
they quickly branched off into competing tribes
and spread out like seeds with windswept strides


she made them as comfortable as she could
bathing them in warmth and providing them food
they thanked her for the bounteous life
that allowed them to live without pain or strife

then something changed, a wrinkle occurred
the line between needing and wanting was blurred
and she began to see a change
the thinking creatures began to act strange


instead of thanking her they ripped her skin
and scraped it and scratched it until it was thin
they began to scream with a new kind of voice
which irritated her so that she had no choice

but to send down the ice to the land below
to cover green lands with ice and snow
to silence these monsters and teach them a lesson
she needed some calm to take a rest in


she decided let them have another chance
and she withdrew the ice from Germany and France
and other lands like China and the Russe
whose creatures had subjected her to such abuse

unfortunately the problem just got worse
she felt herself suffering from some sort of curse
she heard some name thrown far and wide
some imaginary male for whom they all cried


they heaped up stones and plastered them together
they made symbols and songs and bound themselves in leather
some of them rebelled and invented the Other
all but a handful had forgotten their mother

she went out in vain to seek this new god
she wanted to see his scepter and rod
he was nowhere and everywhere, so they said
but he was capable of raising them from the dead


she looked and looked but it was in vain
she became disillusioned with all the pain
men were killing each other for his many names
for petty things and scurrulous claims

and all the while eating her flesh
stabbing her heart and sucking her breath
she went into the deepest depression
listlessly waiting without expression


it is here that we find her, in catatonia
rather like the poor souls you find in Estonia
she has seen too much and feels defeated
those that can help have all been deleted

therapy works when the subject is willing
but the effect of events on her have been chilling
those who remember her have a chance of healing
a slim chance at best when most lack all feeling


so Gaia sleeps on in a torporous state
and we dally in our dreams while the hour gets late
it is all so obvious to anyone with eyes
that one can't survive on a diet of lies

there is no god that looks down on us
we've made a mistake by losing our trust
in the mother who bore us and allowed us to live
and back to her now, her life we must give