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Posts Tagged ‘Earth’

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Where’s your dance, old tree?

The wind plays –

let’s see you sway,

I long to hear

your rustling green.

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Did Autumn tighten up

your knots

and sap your limbs

too soon?

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It seems that Pan

has left you,

tail tucked between his legs

when he saw the horizon

turning black

instead of blue.

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And now I too must hurry off

to find my cave and pray

that dawn

will wring out the mourning

and wash the ash away.

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(c) 1980, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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This is an old one, revised. It was originally written in 1980, two months before Mount St. Helens erupted a hundred miles away from us. (A dear friend of mine died in the eruption, along with her husband and two children.)  I always assumed the poem was a premonition of that tragic event, but it seems to also fit in with current events on this dear old planet of ours.  (The original version was posted here in 2014.)

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P.S. Once again I’m behind reading blogs. Will hopefully catch up with you all soon!

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Baby spider, no bigger

than a pinhead

snuggles next to the sink

for three days,

sustained by dust motes

and a sip of water

from a speck of mist

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until this morning

when she fluffs him

into a tissue

and he rides willingly

through the house

and out the back door

to the garden, and then

.

as if knowing,

he drops down

into the leaves

of the orange Calendulas

which have just begun

to bloom.

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(c) 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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O vernal sun,

come sweeten the rain

as you plant your secrets

under thick moss —

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lend the forsythia

pots of gold

and warm the stones

that circle our garden —

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let poppies buzz

and sword ferns uncurl

as Earth becomes great

with tender.

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(c) 1994, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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An old one, never published here… that I know of.  

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Wishing everyone in the northern hemisphere a beautiful Springtime!  🌷 

And to all of us – north, south, east, west – may love, wisdom and peace someday reign on this mixed up world of ours. 💚

 

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The day comes

when his totem

tumbles to the ground

and he commands silence.

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He empties his pouch

of tooth and claw,

spreads his eagle wings

and flies to the top

of the mountain,

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and with one last glance

at the ashes

and the shattering,

he sighs, and

disappears

into his own truth.

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(c)  1996, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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We can’t be held down,

we’re a ball bouncing back,

an unsinkable raft,

a bowl that won’t crack.

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We can never be slain,

our core’s made of steel,

wherever we’re punctured

we readily heal.

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Trample on us

and we’ll spring back to life,

we cut to the truth

like an ever-sharp knife.

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We’re a magical candle

that never stops burning,

a wise inner child

who never stops learning.

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Knock on our window’s

unbreakable glass,

mow us down, we’ll grow back

like invincible grass.

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Light as a bubble

we can’t be detained —

we’ll rise towards the light

and ever remain.

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©  1976, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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We need to vote — for wisdom, love, truth, integrity, compassion, understanding, tolerance, kindness, common sense, and justice.  We need to vote for candidates who will encompass as many of those traits as possible (no matter their party).

We need to vote for those who will join the rest of the world in protecting Mother Earth.  We must change this downhill slide, for the sake of our children, our grandchildren, and all future generations. Thank you.  ❤

Love, B.  ❤

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thCAERWJ4R

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Hello, my friends,

is anyone there?

I need someone

to come repair

my shattered biosphere.

The ocean’s clogged

with plastic sludge,

the beach is cut

with broken glass,

my raging fever

melts the ice

and all the while

my insides churn

as ancient trees

are turned to tables,

wild creatures

robbed of fur

their heads mounted

on walls.

I sob aloud

and strain to breathe

the muddy air

my tears are lava

running through your villages

I’ve lost my balance

can’t control

the atmosphere

it spins and bawls

across the plains

I quake apart

your buildings fall

the dust roars through

our sacred land

my voice grows hoarse

but still I call out

desperately –

Can you hear me now?

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© 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Re-posted from 2013)

Image from “Bing” free art.

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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.

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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.

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The others scoff

and scold her,

“Are we not

the only children

of the Great Divine?

Are we not

the epitome of creation?”

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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.

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© 2014, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-posted from 2014 – revised)

 

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IMG_4541

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I give my body

for your tables

and your chairs,

for bracelets

and for drums.

You hammer me

into your floors,

untie my shiny knots

beneath your feet.

Can you hear me whisper?

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My branches stretch

to stars and wind

and fold you close at night,

and in the dawn

you grind me

into sawdust

for your pathways

and your barns –

you dance a jig on me.

Can you hear me sigh?

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My leaves

suck the poison

from your air

and shield your faces

from the heat.

Then tenderly

they cover Earth

with patchwork colors

suckling winter into spring.

Can you hear me howl?

I am Tree.

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©  2012, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post from 2012)

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Rivers run

they do not walk

they crest a dam

and do not talk

while smoothing rocks

and rocking banks

in curving stones

and filling lakes

with bubbled lights

and gillied fishes

feeding wells

and granting wishes

silver curved

pastoral scenes

in flows of bold

through forest greens

and wearing blue

lent from the sky

where falling water

dragons fly

in grassy hair

and clover pops,

through sunny glare

and mossy tops

the

     river

knows

         its way.

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© 2012, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright 

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(a re-post)

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IMG_7507

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Heavy laden sky

surrenders to lure of earth

forest is hush-hush.

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 © 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A re-post) 

Photo taken 12-20-2013

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