Let the
flame of love die, and civilisation will surely perish. Precious little chance
of that (he says with fingers tightly crossed) but should the human heart
ever let it die, there are many (me included) that would say its host body, too, is dead. Yet, there are other hosts to human life; mind and spirit host and help form the very nature of who we are, and who's to say they are not as seeds in the wind once the body rejects them likely to settle elsewhere, even take root and grow into a new Self...?
Fanciful perhaps, to the sceptic, (and believe me, I am one) but we see it in nature all the time, death and rebirth so why not in human nature also? While I do not subscribe to any religion - of of the chief sources of division in the world - I have to say I have never been able to dismiss altogether the prospect of a natural, posthumous consciousness.
Now, when
people speak of love, romance springs to mind and lovemaking. Yet, love comes
in all shapes and forms, to each a unique signature of its own; close friends;
pets, favourite places; music to make us feel we love everyone (while it lasts); stories that inspire
and remind us that, for all its ups and down, we are in love with life ... and if
we’re not, we need to do something about it.
This poem
is a kenning
BROKER FOR PEACE OF MIND or WHATEVER IT TAKES
I feed
the fire that keeps
the light
in your eyes burning brightly,
inspires
the Sandman
who
revisits you nightly till dawn breaks
and it’s
Apollo’s turn
to take
over the reins of inspiration
seeing us
through everyday
frustration
and confusion, politics
of
disillusion
I am your
guide, who needs
no
telling which path you should take
through
life though
you make
one mistake after another,
even lose
your true self
among its
twists and turns, misleading
signs
pointing this way
and that,
each promising the fruits
of
fulfilment
I am the
ghost of lives past
calling
from some distant other-world
of its
own making
anxious
to be heard, reassure us
that life
is for living,
each to
our own, following feelings
we can’t
always explain,
trust the
spirit of nature in whose womb
we were
born
I am Love, the heart's broker for peace
whatever it takes, nothing less...
Copyright R. N. Taber 2012, 2017
[Note: Both title and last stanza have been revised since this poem first appeared under the title 'The Keeper' in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home