Morning

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Sunshine through the squall

rainbow arching to the west –

pot of tea, steeping.

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Feral cat sleeping

in her bed outside the door –

steam rises from trees.

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© 2020  Betty Hayes Albright 

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Ray

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The day

we peel away

the tentacles of belief

will be the day

we discover

that unwavering ray

of truth.

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© 2020  Betty Hayes Albright 

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Beyond

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She dares to rise

through molten rock

cutting loose

from the unforgiving core

of gravity

free of the burning bush

and the howl of the tempest.

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Into the open sky she flies

past moon and sun,

the spin of stars

beyond the fabled edges

of the cosmos

.

until no longer up or down

nor right or left

she spirals forth

into the numinous arms

of the Beloved.

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© 2020, 1976  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(A revised version of an old poem from 1976.)

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Witness

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Pecking poppy seeds

chickadee does not see me.

Old cat sees us both.

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(c) 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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Photo by Skylar Ewing / Pexels.com

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Calling

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Little garden pond

longs to be round as the sky —

Moon reflects on that.

,

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(c) 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Image from copyright free source in 2012)

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By Design

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On the walls

of the Great Divine

our soul-prints adorn

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all-ways expanding

ever creating

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for we are the artists

and we are the beholders

and we are the curators

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in kaleidoscope halls

beyond the reaches of time.

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(c) 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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Carnival

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On waves of teal sea-shine

we catch a glossy ride

to chase our lost horizons

and race the rising tide.

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We lean to gather white-caps

and taste their salty plumes

till purple weaves a blanket

and wraps us ’round the moon.

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(c) 1992, 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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Forever in a Meadow

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Eternity came calling

on me one day

with her childlike face

and her kind, ancient eyes.

She laughed at the way

I danced to the ticking

of a mere clock

and said in a voice

that tinkled like moon chimes,

 

“Come let me show you

the land of Right Now,

a place that’s free

from the chains of your time.

It’s a world where the sun

shines from truth’s eye

and the smile on my face

will fill you with peace.”

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I followed a minute

but then a loud whistle

stopped me in my tracks.

Tomorrow perhaps —

it was noon in the valley

and I would be late.

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I headed downhill

but turned to look back

at her beauty once more

and found she had vanished

into Everywhere.

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(c) 2020, 1969, 1965  Betty Hayes Albright

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Written in high school, 1965. Published in chapbook “Living Color”, 1976; previously posted here in 2014.

This is a newly revised version. I guess it’s about time! 😄

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Cherry-Almond

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He liked two things

when he came to our house:

his Buzz Lightyear placemat

and the scent

of Jergens cherry-almond

by the sink.

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          We judge the addict

          who will do anything

          for his next fix.

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The last time he came

he was 16

and we had pizza

and he wanted to use

the worn-out placemat

for old time’s sake.

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          We look down, look

          away,

          close our eyes.

 .

He said he was reading

The Catcher in the Rye –

a favorite of mine, I told him

as he was leaving.

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             We pretend that we don’t see –

 .

             until it’s our own grandson

             who dies of an overdose

             and our hearts break apart.

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When he is gone

I wash my hands

breathing his presence

in the scent

of Jergens cherry-almond

by the sink.

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           We don’t always recover

           from the underlying condition

          of being young

          and oh so invincible.

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© 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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(This is about my dear grandson Jacob who died last March at the age of 24.)

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Illumination

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Dance little poppy,

bow to ev’ry little breeze —

sunshine lands on all.

.

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(c) 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Photo taken last week. We had a lot of orange California poppies…this was the only pink one. I love ’em all. 💕)

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P.S. I just realized, today is my 9th anniversary on WordPress!!  Thank you to the many dear friends I’ve met here over the years.)

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