Togetherness, Poetry set to the Music of Time

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

Spring, summer, autumn, winter... mixed experiences, all weathers and feelings as nature runs the gamut of its potential. Likewise, mind-body-spirit as it passes through the seasons of its life on Earth.

If the finest of weathers is sunshine and the warmth it brings so, too, the finest of feelings has to be love... and who’s to say, in the winter of our years, whether or not we shall ever see another summer...?

Love comes in all shapes and forms and, yes, sometimes the illusion can be such that we mistake it for reality, but the spirit of true love never dies...

TOGETHERNESS, POETRY SET TO THE MUSIC OF TIME

Hope, rippling summer corn

like stirrings of a child unborn,

wondering in the womb

on whatever may lie waiting between

life and tomb...

I lift my eyes to a gorgeous sky,
loose more dreams, watch them fly
like the tail of a child’s kite
flapping bravely against nature's 
might till barely a flicker, 
waved out of sight with tearful eye
and puckered brow, the child
I once was, returning now across
shadowy years, watery eyes
less of a surprise in the summer air
than once having sought 
without finding, been hurt without
making a sound while caged
in a breast so often deprived of rest,
tired of hearing “it's for the best,”
weary of waiting for waiting’s end,
lonely for want of a dear friend,
finally found, only to sail off on a sea
of corn,  FREE – and you’re smiling
wistfully back at me who’s left to bear
a heavy heart, weather the pain
that has us part, your look that says
“We made our world a far, far happier,
and kinder place..." 

A summer breeze, making music 

like a piano player idling at the keys

with an artist’s ease, lulling Earth’s

so-restless womb before the breaking

of a storm that’s spreading alarm

amongst the corn; I spot a field mouse,

tiny, quick, soon forgot, needs must

hasten my own tread, the music growing

to a crescendo in my head, like LIFE,

LOVE... Instead, I’ll linger in this place

and to wind and rain, I’ll lift the face 

of one who’s glad he came to see-hear

our history passing into such beauty

as I’ll always cherish for being no less

a part of you-me-us than s the shoes 

I wear, though much worn through a world 

much torn in two, three, and more 

by envy, hate and war, I have to say, kneeling

now to pray (to what or whom, who knows

with certainty until we get to be part

of the poem that's eternity?) Now, though,

dear friend I cannot let you go without 

thanks for today,  its agenda

for lasting peace and love ringing all the truer

for our being together... 

Hope, rippling  summer corn

like the stirrings of a child unborn,

wondering in the womb,

at whatever may lie waiting beyond 

life and tomb

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001, 2021

 [Note: The original version of this poem was written in 1998 and was first published under the title ‘Once More, Dear Friend’ in my collection, Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; it has recently been considerably and significantly revised.] RNT