Human Spirit, Wings of the Day

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

This poem first appeared on my gay blog n 2017.

A reader writes to say, “I had never thought to dip into your gay blog until a gay work colleague sent me the link to this post and poem in particular. The coronavirus having left me feeling very depressed, it lifted my spirits and reminded me what joie de vivre is really all about. I dare say there are other readers who may not have read it, so please consider posting it on your general blog. Incidentally, I browsed your gay blog while I was there, and will continue to do so.” - Alan B

Well, many thanks for that, Alan, and as someone who has done battle with depression all my life, I can but wish you a mindset able to recognise the signs and default to positive thinking mode.

In my 70’s now, people often refer to me as being in the autumn (even early winter) of my years. Well, physically, yes, of course I am, but there is a spirit in me (as in all of us who know better) that beats its wings and sings its heart out just as if it were spring …

Gay or straight, we all get old; the trick is never, but never, let anyone or anything make you feel old.

HUMAN SPIRIT, WINGS OF THE DAY 

Bursting into spring

come a skylark into song

at the first subtle hint

of a new day’s spreading

its wings

Up, up, and away

like that beautiful kite

we'd fly in a breeze

on daisy hilltops, spreading

news of us…

across cornfields,

and chuckling streams,

busy, smoky streets,

touching base with lovers

like us ...

Demanding heads

in sand look up, take note,

spread the word

to watch out for us settling

nearby…

listen to epic tales

ever worked and reworked

by history,

world taking us to its heart

or not ...

Sailing into spring

on a nightingale’s lullaby

come the first hint

of twilight at a day’s folding

its wings

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017