Unfinished Symphony

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Strange, isn't it, how one recalls the oddest things about school days...?  I was listening to a bird singing its heart out on our classroom window sill and missed a question put to me by my English Teacher. Without thinking, I confessed the reason, adding for good measure that it sounded as if it was trying to tell us something. (I was known to be something of a dreamer even in those days and had written poems for the school magazine for which I was often mocked although never nastily). 

The rest of the class burst out laughing. 

My ears burned on receipt of some good-natured jeering. Expecting a reprimand, I was surprised (and not a little relieved) when the teacher commented, 'Nature is always trying to tell us something, Taber. The trouble is, only the likes of painters and poets can ever be bothered to listen. Now, where was I...?" whereupon he proceeded with the lesson without my ever knowing what his question had been. Such is life, I guess, where time - up to a point - is customised, and rarely (if ever) finished with us until we are finished with it.

This poem is a villanelle.

UNFINISHED SYMPHONY

Music of the Earth
invoking its biography,
at birth and rebirth

Come sorrow, mirth,
(womb-tomb of history)
Music of the Earth

Playing up to a dearth
of uncommon humanity
at birth and rebirth

Testament to its worth;
(crescendo, an epiphany)
Music of the Earth

At humankind's hearth,
an unfinished symphony
at birth and rebirth

Nature, eternal wreath
celebrating Man's integrity;
Music of the Earth
at birth and rebirth

Copyright R N. Taber 2009; 2018

[Note: I only recently revised this poem, and I dare say those readers who had already taken me to task for indulging in so-called 'poetic license' regarding its rhyming scheme will be disappointed, but that's poets for you, we cheat sometimes...]