.
He cuts away gold-threaded robes,
rips the collar from his voice,
kicks away the leaded boots
and finds that he can dance
beyond the trappings
of the mortar
and the folly of prestige.
.
And as he breaks the bindings
that had camouflaged his heart
he finally sees
the great divine
shining from the mirror
and meets himself.
.
(c) 1996, 2016Β Betty Hayes Albright
.
A lovely verse of self-awareness.
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Thank you, Charlie. π
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You have beautifully captured a moment of revelation and realization. I especially like “rips the collar from his voice/ kicks away the leaded boots…” really tactile, freshly original images. The poem makes me wonder about a lurking narrative… what happened to cause this moment, and what he will do as a result… Thoroughly enjoyed this, Betty.
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Cynthia, I’m so glad you enjoyed it. The “lurking narrative” – good question. The poem came to me as an archetypal experience, in the manner of Joseph Campbell’s interpretations of certain myths about enlightenment. I can imagine many scenarios before and after breaking free of traditional “religious” beliefs, and it makes me happy you’ve opened the door to thinking about the possibilities. (Afraid I didn’t have anything specific in mind when writing this 20 years ago.)
I think in most cases a person who has this glimpse of his/her own truth (cosmic consciousness?) will likely relapse back into their previous state of consciousness. But no doubt most are forever changed and will aspire to experience this state again and again until it becomes permanent. Even if it takes many lifetimes. π
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Ah those moments!
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Indeed. Even when they’re fleeting! π
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I have been encountering teasing throughout my life. I believe you have had similar experiences.;)
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Yes. π
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Just as I thought. π
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Likewise about you. π
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One day we see our large self and perhaps wonder how we could have missed it!
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So true, Peter…. we’re never the same afterwards.
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Bravo, Betty. Bravo.
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Thank you, Hal! So good to see you here. I owe you email and will write soon. Hope all’s well there!
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So beautiful!
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Thanks very much, Willow. π
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