Harvest Home

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

“Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.” C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (On the death of his wife, Joy)

“Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated.” - ~ Alphonse de Lamartine, Méditations Poétiques

“She (Dorothea) was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with It as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.”  George Eliot, Middlemarch

“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments but what is woven into the lives of others.” – Thucydides

A neighbour commented: “I never met the Queen, never knew her except as a smiling, graceful figure reaching out to me from the TV. Yet, I feel as if I have lost a dear friend. Silly of me, I know…” 

Not silly at all. I suspect many of us are feeling a similar sense of loss, and as we pause to wonder why, we may well discover some answers to questions we all ask of ourselves.

The legacy of the late Queen Elizabeth II is, indeed, immeasurable in so far as it embraces a truly global consciousness. Mixed feelings, indeed, nor any greater than a sense of losing someone while, at the same time, wanting to celebrate their life.

HARVEST HOME

I am the world that turns
on an axis separate from all others,
yet as much a part
of a common humanity as the air
we breathe in order
to gift me to mind-body-spirit,
for planting and nurturing
what motivates this, my being baring all
to save a heart-and-soul

I can sing and dance, show
myself to the world, by way of urging
we celebrate the gift of life,
whose seed freely given in peace
and love, grown, nurtured,
harvested in such seasons of time
and personal space as begs
we pause to watch, listen, learn, take heart
from a truly indomitable spirit

Where the going is as tough
as it gets, be sure I’ll be there for you,
if not always understood;
feel free to rummage, no damage
done that cannot mend;
though my harvesting yield only pain
and tears of want and fear
,be sure, needs must you explore new worlds
beyond boundaries set by words

I am those feelings by way of which humanity
writes that epic poem we call ‘Eternity’

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

 

Notes on the Art of Self-Deception

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

We have all met them, people who are too stubborn to admit they even might be wrong or mistaken; who won’t compromise because they see even meeting someone halfway as a sign of weakness.

Mind you, even stubbornness has its place in the human psyche; it can be a virtuy or a vice.. For example, it is helping me through my treatment for prostate cancer; a stubborn streak in me refuses to consider (most of the time) what could yet happen.

Oh, but life is too short to dwell for long on its what-ifs and maybes. Carpe Diem, I say!

This poem is a kenning, sometimes referred to as a 'Who am I?' poem.

NOTES ON THE ART OF SELF-DECEPTION

Few acknowledge

my presence from beginning to end

of their time,

insinuating my way with expertise

worthy of a spy

intent on political obstruction,

slithering in and out

among corridors of a nation’s

central powerhouse

To anyone aware

of my existence, it suits them best

to deny I have any influence

over their affairs, but will insist

they will proceed

with the fairness and diplomacy

(not political expediency)

choosing to ignore my capacity

for sabotage

Though the heart

stay true to all intents and purposes,

I will wreak havoc

among dark corridors of the mind,

slithering in and out

where conscience would tread,

ensuring a degree

of impotence for its slipping up

on a trail of lies

 I pass for a pale imitation of integrity

 in the footlights of human vanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013