Gaia is.

Gaia is two steps forward and one step back
Slowly getting this show on, right on track
Train picking itself up, slotting back on the rails
Yesterday’s hard bitter blow, today’s bittersweet tales
Yet this record is desperately seeking for a different groove
Mime artist stuck in invisible net, each single move
A laboured languid attempt for some peace from my mind
A reaching out of the frame a new start, yet every time
The frame grows in unexpected dimensions
All discussions taking on the weight of old and new tensions
An attempt at being carefree as the walls close in
No matter the push, this pressure seems to win.
Yet.

Yet I’ve cheerful attitude to my own destruction
Argh. Destruction, wrong word. To the temporary reduction
Of brain and breathing space- although in interesting ways
The pressure squeezes me well- soon I’ll be writing plays
As creativity becomes my outlet. That and learning to fly
Once I’ve taped my wings back in - i'll be leaping through the night sky
sitting on a trapeze suspended on the stars above
climbing up wrapped in blood red silks for a body-glove
suspended by the straps of these muscles- muscles yet to grow
yet growth is what i fell each day- in body spirit mind and so
colours get brighter, conviction stronger whilst i burn the midnight oil
weight ever lighter, sky even in sight'as I stretch from the stars to the soil.

(april-may poem)