Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘vision’

.

Shaman man,

you knew every fold

hidden in the riddling

curtain of reality.

You saw the bare

bones of motive,

the underpinnings

of facade.

You were strength and power.

But you also knew tenderness,

the sweet kiss

on the cheek of a lover

slumbering in your bed.

But alas, you also knew

when to go.

.

Oh Shaman man

do not doubt another season,

a time not jaded

by an overdose of obstacle.

For when we touch

again, we’ll have

a thousand years to spare.

.
© 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

.

(a re-post)

.

Read Full Post »

Like those nesting dolls

in graduated sizes

my sons became

encased each year

inside of bigger boys.

Now grown and sealed

inside tall men

they’re unaware

I still see through

a mother’s eyes

to all those younger little boys

still playing deep inside.

.

(c) 1992, 2014  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

When the sun and all three moons

have set into the purple sea

it is the rarest dark of nights,

the time to climb the knoll

up to her telescope.

Aiming through the far-flung stars

she’s always drawn to one

on the edges of the galaxy –

a tiny, twinkling sun

much like her own.

Perhaps it also holds a brood

of planets in its warmth,

and maybe there

another set of eyes looks back

across the wild night.

Her mate always scoffs at this

as do the other watchers of the sky

who scold her,

Are we not

the only children

of the Great Divine?

She knows that God

is not so small

and shakes her head at arrogance

while polishing her lens,

knowing someday she will spot

that kindred planet in the heavens

and she will name it “Earth”.

.

© 2014  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

Pieces

(re-post from last Sept.)

.

.

When you raise your hands

they’re filled with wind:

     I fly!

Lightning unchains your feet,

you beat thunder

from your chest:

     I dance!

There are no clouds

in your eyes

but they are not rainless:

     I bow.

Birds plant seeds

in your footprints.

I watch them grow into trees

that walk away

and back again.

They weave a sky

 of bark and green and sun,

and in the puzzle of light

I see your face.

.

(c) 1995, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

(revised, and title changed from “Still” to “Heed”)

.

“Where has gone the light?”

Gaia's Kiss

Gaia’s Kiss by charissa1066 via Flickr

they implored the emptiness.

.

“It’s not the candle,

but the flame

that matters,”

came the swift reply

in answer to their woe.

.

“Change must be the vessel

that carries Gaia

through the storm.

It was your dragging apathy

that drove her off

into the mist

where only those

with unveiled eyes

can still make out her form –

where only those

with opened ears

can still discern her voice.

.

“I am still here,

that humankind 

will learn to breathe

new life into the dust,

that earth shall rise

in startling vitality.

I am still here, beloved ones!

I am here, still

but now it’s up to you.”

.

© 2000, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

Like those nesting dolls

in graduated sizes

my sons became

encased each year

inside of bigger boys.

Now grown and sealed

they’re unaware

I still see through

a mother’s eyes

to all those younger little boys

playing deep inside.

.

(c) 1992, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: