.
Beyond the unforgiving core
of gravity
she births herself
through molten rock
and hard-pan crust
into the space that soars
above the rant of tempests,
of burning bushes,
sun, moon,
the spin of stars
and far beyond
the fabled edges
of the universe
no longer up or down
but circling straight
into the riddle
of her Self.
.
.
© 2013, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
A re-post from 2013.
This was rewritten from an old poem, published
in my 1976 chapbook “Living Color”.