Words by: Liv Brown
Art by: Imogen Davis

My beloved Gaia, she stands tall and proud.
With her cloak of green, a living shroud.
Her hair, the trees, reaching up to the sky.
Each one a strand, reaching out far and wide.

In the canopy above, her whispers weave melodies,
Amongst the branches, she orchestrates harmonies.
Her touch is gentle, her voice a murmur in the breeze.
She paints the sky with vibrant hues, with colours that
dance and tease.

As autumn arrives, Gaia begins to change.
Her hair, once lush and green, begins to rearrange.
She takes her scissors, the wind and rain to play the part
And slowly, ever slowly, she begins to make her art.

With each snip and each cut, her leaves begin to fade.
From green to gold, to orange, to crimson: a masquerade,
In Gaia’s leafy dance, as winds and rain play,
Life’s tapestry unfurls, her veils display.

Even in her autumnal gown, Gaia is a sight to behold.
Her fiery leaves ablaze with colour, a story waiting to be told.
She is a masterpiece of nature, a work of art so grand.
A testament to the beauty that lies in every land.

As winter’s embrace tightens, Gaia breathes her final sigh,
Her branches bare, beneath the cold, starry sky.
But amid the chill, where death’s fingers tightly clasp,
A miracle unfolds, a whisper in the frost’s grasp.

In Gaia’s performance, a tale unfolds,
Of cycles and rhythms, ancient stories retold.
Her seasons a symphony, each one a verse,
In her dance of life and death, where all beings immerse.

On a stage of earth and sky, Gaia performs her endless play,
A harmony of seasons, in her own unique display.
She dances with the wind, choreographs the rain’s soft fall,
Nature’s eternal performance, captivating one and all.
‘Ode to Gaia’