Fly-past

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

I didn't have an unhappy childhood, although it was marred somewhat by my not getting on well with my father. I used to dream then, more than I do now, but they were dreams enough to help me sleep; rarely did I have nightmares. I would often confide these dreams to my mother, and asked why I dreamed at all. She was of the opinion that dreams are ways by which the human spirit seeks to bring us respite from everyday cares of the world. This made sense, even to a 10 years-old boy, but it was not until later years that I began to appreciate the truth in what she said. 

Few if any of us can say we are never touched by the more unkind, even cruel examples of life and human nature that home in on us throughout our lives. This is where the arts so often come into their own, perhaps, feeding us comfort food, inspiring dreams about that to which all art aspires, both encouraging us to open our eyes to the harsher facts of life if only to make us even more aware of its kinder, beautiful aspects to which the artist aspires to help us keep in mind. 

The act of creating any work of art, in any form, demonstrates a beauty that the work itself may appear, at first glance, to all but deny. On further reflection, though, we are taken between the lines of its prose, poetry, paint etc. into the mind-body-spirit of the artist which, more often than not is a beautiful experience. 

An art teacher at my old school once told the class that art is a “felt experience”. I would hear that same expression bandied about many times over many years before I began to experience for myself what it mean;  it was an art class, after all, and I have never been good at drawing or painting, too young then to appreciate how much the same sentiment applies to all art forms. 

While some or many of my poems may not ‘work’ for some or many readers, hopefully something of what has gone into writing them may yet provide a not unwelcome experience of sorts...?

 FLY-PAST 

We fly over oceans, rivers and streams,
whatever the weather, sunny skies or dark,
day or night, whenever the call comes
to mark a celebration of life, whether for real
or just to colour in any blanks 

We will touch base with various leafy trees,
all species, sure to home in whenever we can
on where we’ve been before in a life span
made for coupling, birthing, teaching our young
to make their own life journeys 

We fly under eagle eyes of any looking out
for us, perchance to shoot and bring us down
or - learn something of Earth Mothers ways,
though free to ignore, dismiss for no more or less
than a whim of art’s perspective 

We are birds of the air, a welcome distraction
for the mind-body-spirit left troubled by the ways
of a common humanity sure to leave scars
on a global consciousness whose essential goodness
they are inclined to wear down 

We are dreams, winging human landscapes
whatever the weather, sunny skies or darkening,
day or night, whenever, wherever, called on
to mark a celebration of life, whether in real-time
or just to colour in any blanks 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021