GAIA [revised 20 Mar 08], SECOND REVISION Options

[Psyche]

SECOND REVISION

GAIA

To unwind, to dream,
beneath the canopy of a willow-tree!
I wander your prairies, Gaia,
picture sunflowers smile
at summer skies,
charting the sun’s orbit till nightfall.

Vast terrains pretend to slumber,
guarded by languid owl-eyes
stalking slinky felines
and other unseen creatures of night.

I sleep beneath my leafy umbrella
as frogs croak the onset of dawn,
heralding showers flirting with rainbows.
In dreams I circumnavigate
mountain lakes, sight naissance of rivers.

I recite poems that nobody wrote,
wondrous words dormant in memories of the dead.
I gaze at Gothic cathedrals, the Taj Mahal,
Roman aqueducts dominating Italic olive groves,
Alexandria’s library perished beneath the sea.

Libelious lies and carnage disrupt my trance.

Where has love gone,
where the chubby toes of children?
Why does blossom wither by waysides?
Nuclear submarines inflame sapphire seas…

I've shared hope with shipwrecked migrants,
blending homage and heartache.
I am a refugee seeking a fresh life,
or just life...
I dream the dreams of all men.

I conjure up dust-bowls on Austral steppes,
Amazonia gutted by russet roads,
thawing glaciers thunder Andean slopes.

Ice cubes tremble in my crystal tumbler,
as I offer a toast to Gaia,
to mystery, unreason, riddles,
the paradox of her existence in space-time,
to reality.

Reality is the destruction I have caused her.
It is mourning a death foretold,
though Death is not her death
but mine.

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.




REVISION


GAIA

To unwind, to dream,
beneath the canopy of a willow-tree!
I wander your prairies, Gaia,
picture sunflowers smile at summer skies,
charting the sun’s orbit till nightfall.

Vast terrains pretend to slumber,
guarded by languid owl-eyes
stalking slinky felines
and other creatures of night.
I sleep on beneath my leafy umbrella,
even as frogs croak the arrival
of dawn showers flirting with rainbows.
In dreams I circumnavigate
mountain lakes, sighting naissance of rivers.

I recite poems that nobody wrote,
wondrous verses dormant in memories of the dead.
I gaze at Gothic cathedrals, Taj Mahal,
Roman aqueducts dominating Italic olive groves,
Alexandria’s library perished to the sea.

Libelious lies and carnage disrupt my trance:
Where has love gone,
where the chubby toes of children?
Why does blossom wither by waysides?
Nuclear submarines inflame sapphire seas…
I share dreams with drowned sailors,
blending homage and heartache.
I am a refugee seeking a fresh life,
or just a life...
I dream the dreams of all men.

I conjure barren austral steppes,
Amazonian forests fissured by red roads
and far-flung thawing glaciers.

Uneasily rattling ice-cubes in a crystal tumbler,
I offer a toast to Gaia,
to mystery, unreason, riddles,
the paradox of her existence in space-time,
.................................to reality.

Reality is the destruction I have caused her.
It is mourning a death foretold,
though Death is not her death
.................................but mine.

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.


ORIGINAL


GAIA

To unwind, close my eyes, to dream,
beneath the canopy of a willow-tree!
I wander your prairies, Gaia,
picture sunflowers smile at summer skies,
charting the sun’s orbit till nightfall.

Vast terrains pretend to slumber,
guarded by languid owl-eyes
stalking slinky felines, hares
and other creatures of night.
I sleep on beneath my leafy umbrella,
even as frogs croak the arrival
of dawn showers playing at rainbows
with the sun. In dreams I circumnavigate
mountain lakes, sight naissance of rivers.

I recite poems that nobody wrote,
wondrous verses dormant in memories of the dead.
And then I gaze at Gothic cathedrals,
at Taj Mahal, at Roman aqueducts
dominating Italic olive groves,
at Alexandria’s library perished in the sea.

Libel, lies and carnage disrupt my trance:
Where has love gone, where the chubby toes of children?
Why does blossom wither by waysides?
Nuclear submarines inflame sapphire seas…?
I share dreams with drowned sailors,
blending homage and heartache.
I am a refugee seeking a fresh life,
or just a life...
I dream the dreams of all men.

I conjure barren austral steppes
gasp at far-flung thawing glaciers,
Amazonian forests fissured by red roads,
while I uneasily rattle ice-cubes in a crystal tumbler.
I raise my tumbler and offer a toast
to Gaia, to mystery, unreason, riddles,
the paradox of her existence in space-time,
.................................to reality.

Reality is the destruction I have caused her.
It is mourning a death foretold,
though Death is not her death
.................................but mine.

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Sylvia,

Love the title and content here! I agree to an extent that perhaps a few snips here and there will make this lovely poem stand out even more in a more concise way. I’ll make some notes below. You’ve painted such a lovely image in my mind that I want to research this character so I thank you very much! Glad I had a chance to stop in and read this – the ending is spot-on as it’s poignant reversal of such beauty lies in the death of reality and the hopes that maybe our dreams can change the future.

Enjoyed!
~Cleo

[add] (comment)

To unwind, close my eyes, to dream,
beneath the canopy of a willow-tree! (what kind of canopy : verdant, lush?)
I wander your prairies, Gaia,
picture sunflowers['] smile at summer skies,
charting the sun’s orbit till nightfall.
(Lovely opening!)

Vast terrains pretend to slumber, (delete comma)
guarded by languid owl-eyes
stalking slinky felines, hares (delete hares and comma since you mention other creatures in next line)
and other creatures of night.
I sleep on beneath my leafy umbrella, (suggest changing ‘sleep’ to ‘dream’ for consistency to S1, we know the umbrella is leafy so suggest changing to a color word here)
even as frogs croak the arrival
of dawn showers playing at rainbows (maybe 'flirting' with rainbows followed by an endstop?)
with the sun. In dreams I circumnavigate (suggest deleting ‘with the sun.’ as it is redundant to ‘dawn showers’)
mountain lakes, sight[ing] naissance of rivers.
(Beautiful images carried through!)

I recite poems that nobody wrote, (maybe ‘no-one’)
wondrous verses dormant in memories of the dead. (change to semi-colon or emdash?)
And then I [then] gaze at Gothic cathedrals,
at Taj Mahal, at Roman aqueducts
dominating Italic olive groves,
[and] at Alexandria’s library perished in [to] the sea.

Libel, lies and carnage disrupt my trance: (suggest change to ‘Libelous lies’)
Where has love gone, where the chubby toes of children? (not sure second half of this line is necessary, at least move it to its own line to stand alone?)
Why does blossom wither by waysides?
Nuclear submarines inflame sapphire seas…? (delete the question mark here)
I share dreams with drowned sailors, (delete comma)
blending homage and heartache.
I am a refugee seeking a fresh life, (delete comma)
or just a life...
I dream the dreams of all men. (suggest moving this line to next stanza)

I conjure barren austral steppes (add comma)
gasp at far-flung thawing glaciers,
Amazonian forests fissured by red roads, (move up as L2)
while I uneasily rattle ice-cubes in a crystal tumbler. (delete endstop)
I raise my tumbler and offer a toast
to Gaia, to mystery, unreason, riddles,
the paradox of her existence in space-time,
.................................to reality.

Reality is the destruction I have caused her. (How about: Reality is her destruction?)
It is mourning a death foretold,
though Death is not her death (maybe change the second death to ‘end’?).................................but mine.