Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘transcendence’

.

seagull pendant

.

I wear the old necklace

a gift from my son

.

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

.

his heart was young

and vital then

.

he would’ve hated

   the hospital with all

   those tubes and machines

.

whenever I wore it

he was proud and happy

.

the coroner said

   it was probably quick

   which was a blessing

.

like a pewter seagull

soaring.

.

 .

©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright

.

 

Read Full Post »

.

Let’s go

his body cries

as he clings to the edge

of everything he knows

pulling and stretching

the nuances of air

between each feather

posturing the sun

on his back.

.

Then it comes for him,

the breath of Gaia

rushing in

rushing out

teasing his wild

hungry wings

till he captures her

exhaling

and lets go.

.

©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

800px-The_sun1

.

O goddess of love

I pray you’ll be

the rise of dawn

that lifts me tall

into a selfless plane

beyond the hunger

in my veins

for tender pulse,

for selfish bleed.

I ask you, meet

this longing high

that love be like

a willing star

that has no other need

except to shine.

.

(c) 1995, 2015  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(Image from Wikipedia)

Read Full Post »

storm photo from Jason

photo (c) Jason T. Judd

.

.Have you felt

the torrent coming

churning in your marrow

from the very nuclei

deep within your cells?

It bursts into a howling, spinning,

flooding storm of waves

crashing so hard

on the rocks

that sparks fly,

the wind flames

with tongues of heat

that reach the sun

hungry, licking, feeding,

until there’s nothing left

but a belly full of light.

.

© 2001, 2015 Betty Hayes Albright

.

Photo taken by my son, Jason Judd,

as he flew over New Mexico recently.

Read Full Post »

.

(Short version of “Surrender”, written in 1977)

.

IMG_0438

Photo is copyright (c) 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

.

.Tight-fisted buds

let go

their ego-centric grip

and yield their petals

to the pull

of sun –

thy will be done.

.

© 1977, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

.   .    .    (from 1979)

.

Warm obedient flesh,

this sleeping dough

goes in where I push

and out where I pull

and folded

melts into itself

stretching dreams to gluten

on the floured board.

It wakens

and I start to rise

from hidden realms

that no eyes

will ever know

but yours.

.

©  1979,  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

.    .    .    (old one from 1976)

.

I thought it safe inside my cage,

but could I learn to fly?

Such warmth between those steel walls,

but would my spirit die?

.

So when I found the gate was raised

a trifle bit too high

I closed my eyes and held my breath

and jumped into the sky.

.

In fear I fell, a feathered stone,

my throat choked out a cry,

Is this the end? Was I a fool

to kiss my cage goodbye?

.

All I did was flounder more

as night was drawing nigh.

It seemed the worst was happening

and none could tell me why.

.

Then something warm stirred at my sides,

my wings were going to try!

The dawn broke only just in time

to blow my feathers dry.

.

At last I could fly sure and straight

with clarity of eye.

Free and strong, I knew now

that my cage had been a lie.

.

©  1976, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright 

Read Full Post »

.

(a very old one from 1976)

.

Awaken me,

I’m sleep walking.

In jigsaw dreams

I shadow-box

flailing fists

against the air

to shake away the trappings.

Pry open

these amnesia-clouded eyes

that they may see

beyond this tangled trail of woe –

I long to hear

the Phoenix sing.

Come knead my heart

with cosmic yeast

until my spirit rises up

to navigate the river

that will take me

to the sea.

Please awaken me.

.

.

(c) 1976, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

She climbed above

Wikipedia

the addled day

beyond the spackled sky

until the sun

was all she knew.

It never rose,

nor did it set,

the world spun fast

below her now

but she no longer recognized

the frenzied bulbs

of toggled light,

the creaks

of channels switching,

no more tripping

over shadows,

no more blood

from steel spires.

Instead she heard

the muses singing,

heard the laughter

of the gods

and so she danced

a freedom tango

with a humble star

then rested

in the halo of full noon.

.

(c) 2011 Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: