http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Today's poem first appeared on the
blog in 2016.
Some lovers are lucky enough to
grow old together while the rest of us must be content with focusing on happy
memories.
For the inner eye, though, the line
of vision is always the same, on love, as it was at the start and always will
be ...
Oh, and who cares if the writer of
a love poem is gay or straight? For that matter, why should anyone mind about
someone else’s sexuality anyway? As for those who so love to bring God into the
debate, if God created humankind, He (or She) also created our differences and
is hardly likely to reject anyone for those differences since it is, after all,
our differences that make us ... no, not different, just human.
As those of us well into our 70's
and beyond, there is nothing romantic about growing old, especially if you live
alone; it's tough; no older person would dispute that. At the same time, where
there is love in the heart, a feisty spirit is rarely anywhere near as far away
as it may seem to the casual observer; invariably, there is a life within that
refuses to grow old ... even as it prepares to explore the Poetry of Mystery we
call death. It is an open invitation we dare not refuse; whatever our
ethnicity, sexuality, religion (or non-religion) the human spirit can and will
survive anything life throws at it; we have but to sow and nurture its seed so
that others may (or may not) appreciate its flowering long after our all our
seasons have passed into remembrance.
My old English Teacher, 'Jock'
Rankin once commented that "It may be down to us to write the chapters in
life, but it is left to time to publish our biography." - words that meant
little at the time, but have become more meaningful with each passing season.
LOVE, AN ENDURING LIGHT
If strands of grey in the hair
turning white
and less subtle laughter lines in
the face,
you smile, and my world is filled
with light,
as tired limbs summon dignity and
grace
If the voice sounding weaker than
before,
its familiar lilt still as sweet on
the ear,
and a heart that keeps listening
out for more,
the happier for knowing we’re
together
If time, it parts the world’s
lovers too soon,
our nurture of nature will have its
way,
and who seeks among craters of the
moon
will find flowers we planted there
today
In good times and bad, love’s light
endures,
though Death's tears its vision
blurs
Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2020
[Note: This post/ poem will also appear on my gay-interest poetry blog today; an earlier version of this
poem appears under the title ‘Line of Vision’ in Tracking the
Torchbearer R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]
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