This poem / song is one that I wrote a few years ago. It feels apt to share it again this Spring…
GAIA AND THE WARLORD
Only she and the moon could know
the graveyard of his mind
fraught with nameless terrors
and thoughts of the killing kind;
a tyranny of errors
and insects fighting among themselves
in a power-hungry famine
frightfully unwell.
She saw his false smile
ashen-grey face
talked in defiance
of his fascist ways
and she refused to eat
at his cold banquet
of sold-out theories
and old salad.
(When she took off her gloves
from under her fingernails
stardust of love fell
through the haze.)
She’d completely lost all of her appetite
but wanted to believe and so she thought
that he’d a good heart inside;
his filthy hands smeared brown bread
with screaming children’s cries
still she sat down at his table
though the dream of peace was denied.
(When she took off her gloves
from under her fingernails
stardust of love fell
and caused him to faint.)
He shook and she thought that his heart of blame
could be made from steel or rock, but learn to beat again
so she cocooned him in the raw silk of her soul
until moon night faded into a dawn like gold.
But in the new day, oh he was still dark as night
so she left him in the graveyard
went home to her starlight tribe
and they all restored a garden to bountiful delight
the warlord kept rambling, doubting his own mind.
Fire and water
Air and Earth
No more war
Let Gaia rebirth.
Kathryn Crowley is a writer and art-maker living in Kerry, Ireland. She works as a tutor to children and adults, and is currently creating a new collection inspired by ecology and the sociology of health.
Kathryn Crowley 