A book of poetry by Thomas Gallo Dedicated to Mother and Child; the Earth and all forms that Life has taken To the Creator of that Life To the One Truth that underlies all those forms One Life; One Love The Talk of the Night Tonight the faeries dance and sing, tonight the spirits sway Tonight, the trees are singing soft of the brand new day The moon, she shines so brightly now; the stars, they shimmer shine talking, spreading word around, of the coming time When the Earth is green again; when the people finally see, and make friends with the animals When time stops; and we hear the notes The songs of spirits shining bright, birthing day out of the night When the Earth is green again When the Earth is green But the stars can only wait for now; the animals, they dream The trees in sacred silence wait while the children lie asleep And in their souls they know it well, for reflected in their eyes the stars are shining brightly now calling forth the coming time... From the Heart of a Tree By the old wooden fence, lined with streams of green ivy, the Great and Vibrant Oak stretches her golden limbs – out across the small dirt path; reaching out so as to see the children playing in the schoolyard across the way. It is there that time stands still; at least for a while. For as long as the oak reaches up from the earth and out across the way, there will always be children there, playing. No one ages older than twelve in the field; so there will always be children there playing. And the tree likes this. This is what keeps her growing. stories of stones Oh precious stone, what is your name? Tell me the stories of where you have been. Perhaps on a mountain, ‘neath roots of a tree, or maybe from space - flying free. Or perhaps a volcano, lava and ash; what have you seen; adventures, I ask? And where will you go, what will you be? Perhaps a grain of sand at the sea... _ÉäxÜá Engaged in Love; partners in time holding hands, exchanging rhyme. Delicate whispers, sweet and soft but nobody noticed; heads down, walking off. Yet the lovers stood - strong with their bond, looking out on the streams, the lakes and the ponds; and emerald green mountains, sharing the sun enjoying their Love Together - as One Loving each other, yet nobody knew the people kept walking, kept walking through. And then came the day when a man looked ahead upon the two lovers, he turned up his head and patted the bark: “Dry-rot,” he spoke. “This old tree is withered, it simply must go.” The Love by his side shed willow tears. The man looked around, “A storm’s coming near.” “Let’s make this quick…” he pulled with a jerk; the chainsaw started with rumbles and perks. Willow tears rained as the saw buzzed through the flesh of her Love her dear Love true Now he lies on the ground, for nobody knew; And though the sun is setting, their Love remains true The Gift of Sight The gift of sight is to see the spec of dust floating in the wind; and at once, to be soaring with it The gift of sight is to not only see the flower, but to hear it; to hear it singing and sighing in the breeze No, to see the rainbow is not enough… True vision is to touch it, to take it into your being; its every color, and the divine beauty held within The gift of sight is not sight at all. It is the ability to feel… not with hands or skin, but with the Heart… The Heartbeat of the Earth The heartbeat of the Earth, in the ripples of a pond expanding outward, spreading Love; endless open arms The heartbeat of the Earth, in the fluttering Butterfly’s wings in the sparkle of a Fairy; always growing, it never shrinks The heartbeat of the Earth; in the opening of a Flower in the buds, in every leaf; every second, ever hour The heartbeat of the Earth, in the gently sighing wind in every Rock, in every Tree; on the smile of a friend The heartbeat of the Earth, in the patter of a Chipmunk’s feet in the trot of a prancing Deer; in the song from a Bird’s beak The heartbeat of the Earth; in the Sunshine’s purest Rays in the Light of the Moon; every Night, and every Day The heartbeat of the Earth, in the rhythm of the rain in every Spirit of Nature; time and time again The heartbeat of the Earth, never will it part loving endlessly In the beat of your own heart Beneath the Moon The moon is rising slowly above the tree line; shining her heavenly glow And I watch; I see and I know I am one with the trees and the moon I am filled with awe, and it makes me wonder… all that has taken place beneath this moon Human lives lived and played out, joys felt in heart, the countless struggles endured; treasures won and lost only to be found again All that together, we have been through Oh, our lives – our sacred, sacred lives… The moon has witnessed it all, in her peaceful stillness; spreading her warm and radiant glow as she slowly rises above the treetops – and we have witnessed it all We have seen and been it all – together – And this, is the magic of creation. Schoolhouse Window He spoke so vividly of the splendor of nature, that one of his pupils could not help but ask, “Pardon, sir, but you make it as though we live within the pristine mountain lands—but we do not. We live in an offset of the city.” “Where do you see such beauty?” Unto this, the teacher replied with a smile, “See here, within the humblest of flowers tamed inside our schoolhouse window. Does it not have a world of color and beauty all its own?” The students gathered around the flower, and they looked. Sure enough, there was color, magnificent coral-pink, and sunlight danced with such delicate grace upon the tiniest of veined green leaves. Then, there was something they had not seen, or heard, rather. For it was a sound, though silent, sung forth by the flower. The students could feel it dance within their hearts. Hope to Flower A single Tree stands amidst a field vast and great barren, dry and torn; with crackèd slabs of slate Yet the Tree is Lush and Green, she finds nourishment in Earth She speaks to me of Hope; of Faith, of Joy, of Birth She speaks to me of bliss; Love given, unrestrained Although the land is dry now, she’s calling out my name To tell me of the waters, the waters go unseen, the waters from the Source – she stands with boughs of green Her trunk, curvaceous song - pink flowers in her hair like starlight shine and gleam; she speaks to me of care She speaks to me of Hope; Hope to grow where lands are dry Hope to flower as she does my leaves kissing the sky… g{x _táà j{tÄx The last whale sang her graceful song in the mists of the great and deep It echoed through the sea of stars whilst the world was still asleep It floated and it drifted; it echoed through the night, and as the last whale faded, this lullaby she cried: “Oh Children of the Earth, why now do you weep Mother has grown tired for the world is fast asleep Think now of your brother; think now of your kin, the little ones who climb the trees and through the oceans swim.” “Oh children of the Earth, make you not a peep; oh the stories missed and lost while the world was still asleep.” She sang this from the heavens; sought to bring to earth But the grace, the love, the beauty - they were hidden after birth So as the last whale faded, with her went this song, for the world was fast asleep and had been so for too long Sing Sleep sound fair maidens, your song is soft and light as breath; sleep sound, drift off In the silent winter, the falling snow sing, oh sing your sacred glow Sing your love, your harmony while the world falls apart and no one can see Your song is innocent, filled with care silent as snow falling through the air… Sing your love, your harmony while the world falls apart and no one can see Sleep sound fair maidens, your song is soft sleep sound fair maidens; sleep sound, drift off Poetry and writings inspired by the natural world Recorded by Thomas Gallo © Thomas Gallo DW00108-01