Tag Archives: nature

Gaia, The Earth Goddess


Gaia, The Earth Goddess

I step from boat to island shore
and she waits for me,
her warm, soft breeze
caresses my cheek,
her lush, verdant scent
fetchingly whispers.

She seduces me.

A gleaming azure sky
calms my agitated mind,
her supple trees drape
the curving roadside,
a satin emerald cloak
befitting the Goddess.

She shimmers for me.

Brilliant sunlight dances
on a turquoise ocean,
waves glittering with diamonds
invite me to play,
graceful sea birds soaring above
call me to be free.

She shines for me.

Exotic languorous lizards
ancient as all time
meander lazily on my path,
scoffing at all clocks,
coaxing me to relax into her
warm, tranquil rhythm.

She soothes me.

Time slips away and
becomes meaningless here,
she feeds my soul
with her enduring grace,
her heart beats to mine
and mine becomes hers.

She saves me.


I wrote Gaia, The Earth Goddess in 2019. This poem is included in my nature collection, Our Beautiful Earth Vol. 2, and my poetry collection, Soul Journey: The Poetry of Life.


I have a boyfriend on Floreana Island in the Galapagos. (The islands that inspired Gaia, The Earth Goddess.) Truth! On a visit there I was sitting on the edge of the feeding platform (Floreana is a sanctuary for rescued giant tortoises), watching some of the males spar. Suddenly one decided to come over and flirt. 🙂 What can I say? It was love at first sight.

Wishing you a beautiful Sunday. 🙂

© Susan L Hart 2026

The Trees Weep


The Trees Weep

The willow weeps,
the pine trees moan,
all Nature’s feeling it,
deep to the bone.

Humans out of sync,
not hearing their hearts,
the soul of the Earth’s
being torn apart.

“Technology’s call
mesmerized them all,
and why can’t they see,
their hate is a wall?”

The mountains watch,
their strength eons old,
the oceans too have
seen centuries unfold.

They will endure, but
will humans be here?
“It seems they don’t care,
they don’t hold us dear.”

The eleventh hour
draws swiftly nigh,
trees watch us, crying,
will this be goodbye?


The Trees Weep © Susan L Hart, excerpted from Humanity’s Lament: Poetry for Our Times

WinterWalk


This haiku was written as a submission for Week 4 of Alegria de Rose’s Writing Winter’s Breath. If you’re on Substack and would like to join in, find the invitation here: https://alegriaderose.substack.com/p/week-4-invitation-writing-winters

haiku WinterWalk / © Susan L Hart 2026

Arrival

I am summer born,
snow feels alien to me –
For trees maybe too?
I watch how bravely
they surrender to autumn,
bittersweet adieu.
November’s exposed,
bare branches sway in bitter
winds boding winter.
But gently it starts,
it sneaks up, surprises with
snowflakes so softly
painting such magic,
no more can I mourn leaves, or
the way I saw trees.


Arrival © Susan L Hart 2026

A Good Day to Saunter

“I don’t like either the word [hike] or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains – not ‘hike!’ Do you know the origin of that word saunter? It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the middle ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going they would reply, ‘A la sainte terre’, ‘To the Holy Land.’ And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not ‘hike’ through them.”
~ John Muir


Saunter feels like an old fashioned word to me. How many in this stressed out world have the time or inclination to saunter? Perhaps we saunter with our fingers these days, scrolling through a forestland of words, too apt to encounter trepidation. Ofttimes, I have found, there is little peace to be found in that forest. Full of noise and angst, it leaves one feeling more on edge than when the journey began.

Most of us do not have the luxury of sauntering a pristine wilderness, such as the Sierra Nevada and Yosemite that inspired John Muir. But, a luxurious saunter with a good friend for an hour or two is a walk just as worthy, perhaps even more so. For to spend quality time with another human being, speaking of things of and from the heart, to move one’s feet and exercise both body and mind, that is a walk that refreshes and grows the soul.

I therefore vote to resuscitate “saunter” from the dictionary archives, to bask in a forest, or human laughter (and if one is so lucky, both at once), to bathe in delight, to feel the pure joy of doing practically nothing, and finding everything, too.

For what can be more rejuvenating to the human soul, than a good slow saunter?

More inspirational quotes from John Muir (also known as “John of the Mountains” and “Father of the National Parks”):

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.”

“The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us. Thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls, and every bird song, wind song, and tremendous storm song of the rocks in the heart of the mountains is our song, our very own, and sings our love.”

“This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.”


A Good Day to Saunter, Susan L Hart 2025 / More ebooks

(Photo is courtesy of Trace Hudson, Pexels)