What is this thing I call myself?

I see the world
Before me
That once was One
Uninterrupted Gaia
Herself clad by the blue seas
Her breath
The mists on the mountains
All but waves
And ripples
Rolling across time
On the surface
Of her skin

She breaths in
The dawn
Breathes out
The dusk
This rhythm is law
Until death
Do us part
The earth is a maiden
The sun her keeper

I recognize none
Other than
(Mysterious at it may be)
The invisible force
(As improbable as it may be)
That tetrahedron
Spiral dynamic
Torsion field
Polarity of yin
And yang
That creates space and time
Casting spinning galaxies
As a child blows bubbles
Innocently fearless of their fate
To pop, explode, spurt or giggle
Knowing that all is well
Within this fathomless
Inner peace
That is my own

What is this mathematical
Prodigal Genius
Tossing whole universes
Careless as to my fate
Who trusts that the journey
As nasty as it may seem
Breaks my heart
Once again
Upon the rocks
Of my disappointment
The Disillusionment
Of my Desire
The forbidden expectation
That pleads for justice
As I see children
Ripped from their wombs
Thrown casually into
Jail cells Imprisoned
Impoverished
Starved of even a morsel
Of Grace

What is this state
Of things
That holds the universe together
So perfectly
That the birds and bees
Continue to thrive
In their own way
Until strangled to extinction
By the ignorance
Of human hands

What is this hyperbole
Prismatic
Hyperbolic
Wormhole
Spiraling toward me
Sucking any sense of
Individuality
Out of me
That offers me the gift
Of infinite spaciousness
Promises me salvation
Only to remind me
That is not for me to take

If I lift even a finger
Raising my hand
At the back of the classroom
Hoping for the teachers attention
Cause I need to go pee
That I need recognition
I’m smart and I know the answer
Please say I’m real
And important
To You….

As I tentatively raise that finger
Cautiously
Objecting to the test is too hard
Unfair
I’m not prepared
To withstand
Another failure
The pressure
That she so ignominiously
Callously lays upon us
My grades are tenuous
I need to get at least
A passing grade
To avoid my fathers
Belt

She laughs gently,
“Oh, don’t worry, little boy
You don’t even understand
What this is really about….
Someday you will understand”
I blush with embarrassment
As I walk slowly towards
The boys bathroom
My pants wet
With sweat
And the stink of urine

I am angry with this
Careless God
Who speaks from the pulpit
Long dead aphorisms
Ancient scriptures
Psalm 22 or such
To the nightmare
That is my life

What is it
That holds space
So openly
That I may travel through time
To dimensions unknown
To destinations beckoning
To fulfill my Desire
For this furtive feeling
That I call Love
What is it
That seeks permanence
Within something so slippery
As to be unknowable
Ever changing
Yet never different
Always the same
Spaciousness
Peace beyond Comprehension
I slip into her nest
Lay my head upon her breast
And truly hope
That all is well
Within a world
So sick with welts and boils
That it pains me
To see her in such a state

They speak of Duality
As if it explains away
My broken bones
The war victims
Thrown into a nameless grave
By young Illuminati
Wearing the uniform
Of Righteousness
Named by a slogan
Such as,
“Support our troupes”
Such is the troupe
Of the human mind
That has no heart

Yet somehow
In these moments
As I fly the privileged life
So high above the people
Below can’t see what I’m thinking
The world is my postpartum oyster
I am the womb
That gives birth to infinity
The infirmity tragically
Tossed upon the waves
Of trash dumped into my waters

Poseidon says:
I object……
Sir, I object….
I need to speak…
Please listen….
This is important…
I have feelings, too….
And yet all i hear is,
“Objection denied”
As the hammer pelts the pulpit
Denied even the right to pee
Into this oceanic ocean
Of wisdom
That i call my own
My sovereignty disregarded
Dumped and dimmed
Under a sea of noises
Sounds and clamor
Voices
I do not recognize

With no one to listen
I soar even higher into the clouds
My private jetliner
PanAm style
My personal spacecraft
My own merkaba
Deep into the fathomless
Scorpionic waters
Where no light can shine
Cause there
In the silence
Bottomless pit of my cave
Where no one can find me
Sobbing into my pillows
Unending tears of grief
I remember again
What I had in mind
When I made
This world
That I have named
After my daughter,
Gaia