Chakra Living

Bleeding Out

by Dhanistha dasi

Posted June 20, 2010

mother earth -- the personification of genius
compassion, and very good teacher
as she gushes our fate
right back into our faces,
her womb is on fire
birthing the reality of human greed
the ultimate tar baby

ever soon there could be no rain at all
upon our dull heads
bowed in heavy sorrow
still no sign of humbled
just yet
not humble
just yet

a resilient and voracious dictator
metastasized in a corporative effort
then bore into her core
all life will be consumed in her sorrow
all life lost is her manifest sorrow

you -- you who call the shots --
tell us -- we who love the cleansing rains --
is it worth it to fill your groveling pockets
with the lids of your children's coffins?

we ripped out her heart
instead of drinking her milk
as if at war with her
all the time she was offering our blind eyes
blue fresh rivers lined with mangoes and black sweet raspberries
flower laden shades of golden honey
herbs of sage and tender wild rice
beds of midnight green moss
and matted seaweed hammocks
within our reach though most of us did not

so we grabbed fool's gold
rather than catch the nourishing light
until we took it all
giving tokens and promises
broken glass and progress
for every vibrant spring
she ever gave us this life
she may be taking back from us now...
tell me is it worth it?

we gave not a moment
to lay her head down and rest
to keep safe her dreams
our dreams the dream

they lost or broke the drums she gave them
pounding demands on her surface with steel fists
till they pierced her solar plexus --
where she breathes
reaching for her heart --
where she has kept the rhythm of all things
...until now

she has run out of bounty due our waste only
and regurgitates a dark brooding liquid toward her children
here is this what you wish to drink?
Let it nourish your knowing then
for even if you are no more...
all too soon lost in a radical deluge of fires and storming fists
from which it seems not even death can quench
she comes to get us or we fall in
into the sea sage womb waters
cleansing as she pours

at this rate
in her own time
she will soon be shed of us
she will soon be in her own time
a brimming full cornucopia again
she will rebirth
on her own distant horizon without us
though we are lost for sure without her

she is cutting the cord
and we may
-- if she sees it fitting --
have no soft place to land this time

the punishment should fit the crime

headed for a free fall
no moss
no grass
no dew
only asphalt
hardened petro
dried blood

mother cries we heard her ice caps are melting
she cries out her mountain rivers dwindle
she cries out now as they try to dam her
but this they cannot dam
pouring out from deep within
there is no stopping progress now
while we watch her live
we hear her bleeding
this way now
so directly evident and endless

i am typing in baghdad text to get here
trying to remember that poem
i wrote in my head an hour ago
driving through the valley of horses and potters
wheels on dirges not yet entered here
the painted foals and a black one each nursing
long legged and worried young mares
fresh shaved white and some rich chocolate ewes
give spring time head butts to their children
edging the kids to a high grass huddle
close to the wire leaning toward that extra inch of grass
the hi way that puts them in final jeopardy
i drive like it matters which way
trying to beat the 'empty' flasher from blinking at me
real eyes realize my part in all this

its her decision in one sense
the question of survival
and if any of us will
it's written somewhere on a dam wall
i am sure of it
damned bewildering
this global karma gushing in our faces
the personification of genius
our mother may quite naturally -- as would any great mother --
choose to cast us out this time

but then not long ago,
we could have lived forever
on nectar and sweet water
those succulent syrups poured into our mouths
from jeweled crowns of flowers of friends and loved ones all
laden with honeyed bees and hummers wings
and mountain springs
of fire and seasonally melted ice

we squandered all this in a hurry to cut through a death valley
until we bled her womb somewhat inside out
trampling and suffocating every child...
that was to come again
from her bountiful heart
in our raging maniacal wake