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Posts Tagged ‘wisdom’

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Capricious one

I often wonder

if in truth

our hearts grow fonder

.

longing for

the agate blue

of sky-reflecting

drops of dew,

.

of simple pleasures

on the skin

and tender truths

to wrap us in

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fine threads of wisdom

knit with choices

weaving through

those distant voices

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firing up

our tender hopes

while mating in

kaleidoscopes.

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Then shall we

consummate the sun?

I wonder,

oh capricious one.

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© 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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We can’t be held down,

we’re a ball bouncing back,

an unsinkable raft,

a bowl that won’t crack.

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We can never be slain,

our core’s made of steel,

wherever we’re punctured

we readily heal.

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Trample on us

and we’ll spring back to life,

we cut to the truth

like an ever-sharp knife.

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We’re a magical candle

that never stops burning,

a wise inner child

who never stops learning.

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Knock on our window’s

unbreakable glass,

mow us down, we’ll grow back

like invincible grass.

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Light as a bubble

we can’t be detained —

we’ll rise towards the light

and ever remain.

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©  1976, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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We need to vote — for wisdom, love, truth, integrity, compassion, understanding, tolerance, kindness, common sense, and justice.  We need to vote for candidates who will encompass as many of those traits as possible (no matter their party).

We need to vote for those who will join the rest of the world in protecting Mother Earth.  We must change this downhill slide, for the sake of our children, our grandchildren, and all future generations. Thank you.  ❤

Love, B.  ❤

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Arlie & Wagon (2)

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I dreamed

he was a little boy again,

sitting in his red wagon

waiting for a ride

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but he talked

like a wise, old man

and showed me a scroll

of his life –

.

diagrams, notations

I couldn’t understand.

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“I’m shifting manually

through the cosmos,”

he said.

.

I woke

with an ageless song

playing in my head.

.

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©  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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*This was an actual dream, early this morning, about my late son, Arlie.  I jotted down his words, not fully understanding them at the time.  Later, when I told his older brother about the dream he agreed: only Arlie would say something like that.

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Arlie & Jason (2)

Arlie on left, and big bro Jason.

Both photos taken in 1976.

 

 

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(Originally from 1976 – revised)

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We can’t be held down,

we’re a ball bouncing back,

an unsinkable raft,

a bowl that won’t crack.

We can never be slain,

our core’s made of steel,

wherever we’re punctured

we readily heal.

Trample on us

and we’ll spring back to life,

we cut to the truth

like an ever-sharp knife.

We’re a magical candle

that never stops burning,

a wise inner child

who never stops learning.

Knock on our window’s

unbreakable glass,

mow us down, we’ll grow back

like invincible grass.

Light as a bubble

we can’t be detained,

we’ll rise towards the light

and ever remain.

.

©  1976, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Someday wisdom, love and truth will prevail.  Never give up!)

.

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Cascading Stream under Sunlight in Forest

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Listen carefully

even to the babbling –

wisdom might emerge.

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(c)  2014  Betty Hayes Albright

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“Cascading Stream Under Sunlight in Forest”

Image from a copyright free site,

uploaded years ago – photographer unknown, unfortunately.)

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great_silence-2

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Time is not the enemy,

aging doesn’t dowse our fire.

Instead the boundaries burn away,

we seek the siren’s call

and grow wilder than a tiger’s eye.

Light flares from our fingertips

passion tingles up our spine

joy is found in minute pieces –

feathers, petals,

agates, leaves

and every atom spinning

through the dancing universe.

No, we don’t dream of rocking chairs,

we rocket like a comet

into life.

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© 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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(image from copyright-free website)

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(c) 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

(c) 2012 B. Albright

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How can you lecture,

how dare you preach

when you do not know

your Self?

Come back to me

when you have more wisdom

up your satin sleeve

and we will break bread

and have tea.

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(c) 2014  Betty Hayes Albright

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Photo is of a Moon Flower about to burst into bloom.

 

 

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Trees point to the sky,

flowers turn to face the sun –

they are good teachers.

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(c) 2013  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A shorter version of theme from previous post.)

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Flowers never open up

in blind belief

nor do grasses

on the hillside

sway in winds

of dogma.

 

Leaves never tilt their sides

towards a wishful thought

and treetops will not stretch

for the pseudo heights

of politics

(nor do their roots drink

lower than the low).

 

Flowers, grass, leaves, trees

live only for the Sun.

What makes you bloom?

 .

© 2013  Betty Hayes Albright

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Closer

(An old one from 1976…)

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I searched for truth

in stained-glass cubbyholes

but couldn’t find its face.

I sought it out

in books — alas,

the printed word

was blurred.

I went to class

and hoped to find it there,

but every esoteric lecture

left me still half bare.

I closed my eyes

and chanted “Om”

and reached out with my heart

but in return

I only heard a chuckle.

Now I step

into my soul

and boldly knock

on wisdom’s door.

The sky grows bright,

the air turns rare

and there’s God’s footprint

on the floor.

I follow.

 .

©  1976, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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