A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

Name:
Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Sunday, 1 March 2020

Edge OR Mind-Body-Spirit, the Ultimate Adventure

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

I posted today’s poem on YouTube some time ago yesterday while those of you who seem unable to access YouTube can also see the video below; the poem was written especially to accompany it; the alternative title was added later, on the subject of which several readers have asked why I "bother with alternative titles at all." All I can say is that a title is the reader's access point to a poem before he or she even reads a line; it sets not only the tone of a poem but gives it a framework of sorts in which the reader can freely move. Feedback often suggests that my first choice of title for a poem fails in ne or both respects so rather than revise the poem (although I do this, too, sometimes) I revise the access point. No poet should assume that how they access to a poem will necessarily apply to a reader; he or she needs consider critical feedback, and act on it as and when it feels appropriate.

For anyone interested, my YouTube channel is at:


Continuing my friend Graham’s video snapshot of Wiltshire, this is the second of three videos and poems relating to the Cheddar Gorge.

See how Graham ventures to the very edge at times while my poem attempts yet again to reconcile human condition and natural world.

Time and again we find ourselves at the edge of life, love, history ... even death ... and we need to call on all the power of positive thinking available to us to take us further or back, as the case may be ... or take a leap into the unknown now and then and trust our natural instincts to see us right. An artist friend once commented that life is all about being on the edge of a great adventure, one that the arts delight in taking us on. I get that, I really do. Any adventure will have its ups and downs; negotiating and surviving the latter on the best terms available to us is as important a feature of life as enjoying the former. Yes, I know only too well that hitting a rough patch is no 'adventure'; my friend would argue that it's getting through it where the 'adventure' lies if only retrospectively. 


Whatever, I discovered many years ago that positive thinking is a godsend, and encourages a sense of adventure through thick and thin. Better, I found out the hard way, to keep a sense of adventure than give up on ... whatever. 


Did I say it was easy?

EDGE 

Where nature goes,
the human mind would follow
to the end of time,
yet there are abysses in between
where even human will
can but gaze from the edge,
look down at the hem
of Earth Mother’s emerald gown,
across to where others
have gone for having dared dream
of dancing on Mount Parnassus
to the Pipes of Pan, glad to let sun,
moon and stars guide them
across bridges only the inner eye
can see that seeks out a light signalling
their finest poetry

Where nature goes,
the human body would follow
to the end of time,
yet there are seas to cross, mountains
to climb, gorge and valley
waiting to see how far a body will go,
how much battering it can take
until it has all but achieved its aim,
to kiss the frayed hem
of Earth Mother’s emerald gown,
only to discover that sun, moon,
and stars may yet refuse poor humanity
a final bonding with eternity
till we dare look down from its edge,
and finally acknowledge the home truths
half buried there

Where nature goes,
the human spirit would follow
to the end of time,
make merry with the its ghosts
haunting corners of the mind
we may well choose to avoid in case
the body cannot take the strain
of having to confess a great weariness
with keeping secrets, signing off
in peace and love while so frustrated
at not being able to make sense
of it all, sick of seeing humanity put down
at the hem of Earth Mother’s gown,
rummaging its frayed edges to retrieve
sufficient bits and pieces of ruined bridges
to rebuild one

Where mind, body and spirit work together,
we may yet save ourselves and each other?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012




Note: This poem first appeared on the blog in 2012 under the title 'Edge'.

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