http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Death is part and parcel of living. No writer can ignore it,
especially a poet. I don’t think death is anything to fear but simply part of
the continuum that is the human spirit.
As regular readers will know, I rejected religion even as a child
and chose to put my faith in nature. It is in nature that I identify with a
strong sense of spirituality that continues to sustain me throughout both good
and bad times. Yes, nature can be a force to fear at times, but so can human
nature.
Who could be afraid of a flower or a tree?
As for pain…well, yes, I am a coward when it comes to pain.
Hopefully, death will come peacefully when my time comes for it to pay a call.
But…who knows? Perhaps it is true what they say about ‘no pain, no gain’ and we
have as much to gain in death as we do in life, maybe even more... Whatever, I
see death following life just as spring follows winter; not in any religious
sense, but religion does not have a monopoly on spirituality and the human
spirit that makes us who we are is sure to live on in the heart and minds of
those we have knowingly (or unknowingly) influenced during our lifetime.
We miss loved ones who have passed away, of course we do, but knowing that their influence for good on us and others continues to make a positive contribution to life here on Earth has been, for me, an ongoing celebration and acknowledgement of their lives; in that sense alone, a huge comfort and inspiration.
The
notion of a posthumous consciousness is prevalent in literature, of course,
notably the classics, and arguably no more so than in Emily Bronte's 'Wuthering
Heights'.
Meanwhile…
BIRD LIFE or
EULOGY FOR (ALL) LOVERS
‘Death’
such a sad, lonely word,
flies above us like a graceful bird
but makes no sound
nor will it ever descend to breathe
life and love into a tree
or flex its wings on our window sill;
we can but watch, learn, dare
to flex our own, breathe
life and love into a tree, no matter
where it be, for there I will
sit with you and you will sit with me,
watching a bird on wing
bring grace to the greyest skies
nor any fairer sound
till joined by another then hear both
sing loud and clear, a poem
for the trees to share night and day
long, long, after we have
gone away
Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; rev. title
2008
[Note: First published under the title 'Lines on Nature
Conservation' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber,
Assembly Books, 2007.]
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