(Written in 1963 – age 16)
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Who am I, walking this earth
with my average looks and birth?
What am I doing here?
Do I deserve to be so near
to the beauty of grass and flowers
with my lowly, finite powers?
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Where do I stand in God’s home?
Was I put here to write poem after poem?
Why am I standing so small
in universes containing all?
When am I – near the end of time?
Or are we humans far behind?
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Will time and space ever rot,
or won’t the two ever stop?
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© 1963, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright
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(Re-posted from my 1960’s blog: Summers of Love
Bad poetry, but same old questions….)
Seasonings 
I love this for how it makes me remember…..( oh those adolescent poems!).and reminds me not only that there may be nothing new under the sun…but of how we are all connected, many in one….
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That’s what I’ve learned too, Cynthia – the “many in one” connection. And yes – “those adolescent poems”…. Ha! Mine were all pretty awful, but sincere. 🙂
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Any nearer to answers?
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Hopefully, yes.
https://raindancepoetry.wordpress.com/2014/11/05/spiral/
But then no matter how many questions are answered, there will always be more – the Mystery continues. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 🙂
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Without it we should never have met. 🙂
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Daily musings. What you know today will be different tomorrow. Nice writing.
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Aye, that is true! We are constantly unfolding… 🙂
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Oh…how the answers to those questions have changed over time and situations.
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You’re right… the different situations of life affect our perspective of both the questions and the answers. (Though perhaps the ultimate answers are absolute, somewhere beyond our comprehension….?)
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