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Posts Tagged ‘spirituality’

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We leave our warm houses

and walk the long path

to the meadow, where shadows

are caught in mid-freeze

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and stillness becomes us,

a breath in the thickets

a widening of eyes

the gentle padding of time.

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And from the trees

rays of sun

splay through dark branches

and land at our feet

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as we raise up our arms

to welcome the moment

when light reacquaints us

with Light.

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(c) 2003, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post, revised)

 

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It comes in darkness

like a gentle giant

no trumpets or glare

just strong arms

that lift you

above the sharp slopes

to the top

of the mountain

you’ve climbed for so long.

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You throw off your pack

and the valley widens

into a smile

and the sun spreads

like butter

on loaves of eternity

and you finally see

that it’s you, love –

you are the giant.

.

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© 2000, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(originally posted in 2012, now revised)

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She thought it was

the autumn sun

shining on the dogwood tree

but no

the leaves themselves

were flushed

defying the gray

with red-gold embers

self-lit in the gloom.

It was the spark

within the dead,

the nuances of yesterday,

the fire of life

banked against all odds.

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(c) 2010, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post, revised)

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prism from Pixaby

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Polish clean

your cutting rocks

my jagged stones

till dawn reveals

prisms.

.

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(c)  1993, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A re-post. Image from Pixaby)

 

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seagull pendant

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I wear the old necklace

a gift from my son

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he tells me

  to stop saying

  if only and should’ve

 .

he bought it

with his pizza money

.

it was nobody’s fault

   he says.

   I want to believe

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his heart was young

and vital then

.

he would’ve hated

   the hospital with all

   those tubes and machines

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whenever I wore it

he was proud and happy

.

the coroner said

   it was probably quick

   which was a blessing

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like a pewter seagull

soaring.

.

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©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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She burrows under

leaves and twigs

slides past thorn

and nettle

chews through

her own roots

to mate with worms

where the soil is dark

and sweet.

Earth fills her ears

with lullabies

and she sleeps

sealed

in tomorrow’s rose.

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(c) 1992, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

 

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IMG_9642

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I hear it sing

through the kitchen window

your old wind chime

its long weathered pipes

clanging across the wetlands

echoing up the hillside.

You wave to me now

smiling

from the crest

of a mighty gale

roaring through the heavens

and away.

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©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(For my late son Arlie, who would be turning 45 on July 29th)

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