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Posts Tagged ‘cosmos’

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Washing dishes and

longing out the window

at trees

when suddenly

the ends of the universe touch

like the tips of two wings

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and I’m there

at that center

where nothing exists

but a bubbly plate

and the clear hot water

rinsing it clean.

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©  2012, 2020 Betty Hayes Albright 

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Re-posted from 2015, previously titled “Clear”.

Also published in Skipping Stones in 2018.

This is a revised version — hopefully improved. 😊

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bird2

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We found a little box

with a speckled bird inside

and fed it bits of food

and water from a dropper,

until the day he asked

for a bigger place.

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And so we placed him lovingly

inside a gilded cage

with trays of seeds

and a wooden perch

where he could hop about.

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“This is fine for now,” he said,

“but tomorrow

I want something bigger.”

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We quickly built an aviary

with maple trees

and blueberry shrubs

where he could flutter

through the leaves.

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“This is nice for now,” he said.

But after several days he asked

to wing about the house,

and finally out the window.

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We watched him fly

through forests and valleys,

and finally up into the sky

between the stars, and out

beyond the Milky Way.

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A year went by

and one day he returned,

asking for his little box.

He snuggled down to rest, and said,

“This will do just fine –

for I can see forever

from here now.”

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© 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Poem is from a dream I had last April. 

The image is a partial of a print my late parents had – artist unknown. (Update – the artist is Jill Fogelsong.)  The sun just happened to be shining through the window in a certain way, giving it a rainbow effect — which caught my eye. I wasn’t planning to post an image with this poem, but it presented itself just in time. Funny how things work out….

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Arlie & Wagon (2)

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I dreamed

he was a little boy again,

sitting in his red wagon

waiting for a ride

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but he talked

like a wise, old man

and showed me a scroll

of his life –

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diagrams, notations

I couldn’t understand.

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“I’m shifting manually

through the cosmos,”

he said.

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I woke

with an ageless song

playing in my head.

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©  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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*This was an actual dream, early this morning, about my late son, Arlie.  I jotted down his words, not fully understanding them at the time.  Later, when I told his older brother about the dream he agreed: only Arlie would say something like that.

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Arlie & Jason (2)

Arlie on left, and big bro Jason.

Both photos taken in 1976.

 

 

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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.

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© 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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A re-post from 2013.

This was rewritten from an old poem, published

in my 1976 chapbook “Living Color”.

 

 

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When the veil lifts

we see the bones

of the universe

and it doesn’t matter

the color of an eye,

an unread poem,

a broken thread,

the forgotten name.

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And everything matters –

the curve of a smile,

a loaf of bread shared,

the feather of a crow,

each dandelion spared.

What matters is the fingerprint

we leave on the flame

before we’re dowsed with slumber

and it all begins again.

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(c) 2004, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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On another planet

orbiting a different star

in a distant galaxy

on the edges of the universe

I wonder

what time it is.

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(c) 2011, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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In a great heat

Mother/Father

stir the nothingness

into boundless waves

to seed the multiverse:

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Octave after octave

of radiance and light –

seven times seventy

explodes through the emptiness

with stars, planets, moons.

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Life-forms rise and fall

across the infinitude,

and here and there

some find the path

to their effulgent source.

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And those few tell their truth

in parable and allegory

hoping to teach others —

but most misunderstand

and instead create gods

forged in their own images.

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Yet now and then

a smoldering ember

bursts into white flame

and Mother/Father smiles

as another shimmering soul

spirals home.

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© 2014, 2020 Betty Hayes Albright

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We can wag

the comet’s tail

till our orbits

spin like bracelets

bangling ‘round the sun;

or we can skip

through all the stars

in a game

of ancient hopscotch

where constellations

dance a jig

and time shrinks

to a dot

and we see

there is no distance,

just a difference

of thought.

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(c) 1995, 2016 Betty Hayes Albright

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On another planetHourglass

orbiting a different star

in a distant galaxy

on the edges of the universe

I wonder

what time it is.

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(c) 2011, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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He threw his clock

into the sea,

tossed the years

into the fire,

trod the foothills

higher still than yesterday.

Beyond the summits

of tomorrow

rising past the craters

of his grief

he danced and fell

and danced some more –

he  laughed and wept

and laughed again.

And that’s when lightning struck.

With open eyes

and flashing needles

all his poems

were loving-sewn

into the walls

of evermore

and Cosmos was complete.

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(c) 2011 Betty Hayes Albright

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