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Posts Tagged ‘seeds’

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If you must choose

be not the rose

nor the wintering compost

but rather the seed,

the capsule that knows

beginnings and endings

are the sacred vines

which weave immortality.

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(c) 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised)

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A tree knows.

It knows the animal of time

that climbs up its trunk,

wrinkling hours into bark.

It knows that rain

falls between suns

and that baby birds

fly their nests

and return full of eggs.

A tree knows

that endings

swallow their own tails

to become tight brown nuggets

falling in circles,

flavoring earth with the future.

A tree knows.

And what it knows best

is to give.

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(c) 2003, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised)

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Words

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Music rises from her garden,

goes off key

and disappears

into the sky.

Curious, she digs

with her bare hands

past dead roots

and rotting leaves

into birthing soil.

And there she feels a rhythm

pounding in the earth,

and the rise

of sacred humming

in her ears.

She drops a seed

into the hole

and out sprouts a melody

that grows into a tree.

Wind sings in its branches

and for the first time

in her life

she understands the words.

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© 1996, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised)

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IMG_8691

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Grass bolts for the sky

goes to seed triumphantly

spared from mower blades.

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(c) 2015 Betty Hayes Albright

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(Sorry for the blurry photo – it was breezy.

Looks better if you click on it.)

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IMG_8644

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Fluffing up the sky

cottonwood seeds float to earth

nest in old, dead leaves.

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(c) 2015 Betty Hayes Albright

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(photo taken May 2015)

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‘Tis fall, indeed!

I love when flowers

go to seed

and chickadees

come to feed

and there’s no need

to deadhead,

nor to weed.

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© 2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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A re-post – just an artless little ditty from Gramma Krackers.  (My alter ego).

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A tree knows.

It knows the animal of time

that stretches up its trunk

wrinkling hours into bark.

A tree knows that rain

falls between suns

and that baby birds

fly their nests

and return full of eggs.

A tree knows

that endings

swallow their own tails

to become tight brown nuggets

falling in circles

flavoring earth with the future.

A tree knows.

And what it knows best

is to unfold.

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(c) 2003, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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