Neighbors

.

When the sun

and all three moons

have set

into the purple sea

it is the rarest dark of nights

and time to climb

the promontory

to her telescope.

.

She aims it through

the far-flung stars

always drawn to one

on the edges of the galaxy –

a small, twinkling sun

much like her own.

Perhaps it also holds a brood

of planets in its warmth

and maybe there

another set of eyes

is looking back.

.

The others scoff

and scold her,

“Are we not

the only children

of the Great Divine?

Are we not

the epitome of creation?”

.

She knows the gods

are not so small

and impotent,

and soon she’ll find

another fertile world.

Shaking her head at arrogance

she polishes the lens.

.

.

© 2014, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(re-posted from 2014 – revised)

 

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Totality

.

Was that the moon

or just a mood

that crawled across the sun?

For awhile

it seemed the day

had lost its way

leaving just

the steaming edges

of its magnitude.

But all things pass

and so this too

that shadow-stealing

interlude,

we’re warm again

the sky is blue,

the sun

was just in need

of a little Sol i tude.

.

©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

.

(Hopefully many of you will get to witness the solar eclipse tomorrow as it crosses the U.S. It’ll be at 98% totality from here in SW Washington. Can’t wait!)

.

(revision of 2012 poem “Eclipse”)

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Neighbors – 2014 posting

.

When the sun

and all three moons

sink into the purple sea

it is the rarest dark of nights

and time to climb the knoll

up to her telescope.

She aims it

through the far-flung stars

always drawn to one

on the edges of the galaxy –

a tiny, twinkling sun

much like her own.

Perhaps it also holds a brood

of planets in its warmth,

and maybe there

another set of eyes looks back

across the wild darkness.

.

Her mate always scoffs at this

as do the other watchers

of the sky.

They scold her,

“Are we not

the only children

of the Great Divine?”

But she knows

the gods are not that small

and shakes her head

at arrogance

while polishing her lens,

knowing someday she will spot

a kindred planet in the heavens

and she will call it “Earth”.

.

.

© 2014, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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