Raison D'être

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

Regular readers will know that I do not subscribe to any religion but choose instead to put my faith in nature. Time and again, nature has lifted me from a pit of despair, restoring any flagging faith in that joie de vivre that has inspired my poetry (and me) since early childhood. (My first poem - ‘Spring’ - appeared in my secondary school’s magazine at the end of my first year when I was still only 11 years-old.)

Whimsical, yes. Poetic, yes. An abstract grasping at proverbial straws unfit for human purpose? Well, it has been called that by some, but who cares so long as it works? I have to say, it has always worked for me, possibly accounting for a lifetime passion for poetry and nature, especially as it relates to human nature, warts ‘n’ all. (Any shutters on reality always open to letting in more than less light on the world.) 

True, we are but mortal and some day we will leave the world, but there is, I passionately believe, a posthumous consciousness that will pass on to others whose lives we have touched either in passing or more fully; either way, something of us lives on in them and, hopefully, will inspire that same predilection for positive thinking that has seen the likes of yours truly from cradle to ... wherever.

RAISON D’ ÊTRE

Once I saw a blackbird

land on the branch of a tree,

and it saw me there,

but showed no fear, simply burst

into song as if it knew

only too well why I had come,

seeking peace of mind

everywhere, finding it nowhere,

losing my way...

It looked me in the eye,

the blackbird I had chanced upon,

as if defying me to leave

before its song of spring had time

to touch senses dulled

by loss and grief in a dark winter

of the heart where light

stubbornly refused entry by pain's
closing all shutters

The more it sang, the more

I loathed the tiny bird for lending

its joie de vivre

to Gardens of the Dead, its gates

closed to me,

my time not yet come to find you,

no matter the last drops

of adrenaline leading me (if blindly)

to this place still warm

A tearful sun took pity on me

through clouds making me shiver

for their blocking its heat,

while the blackbird held my gaze,

as if to keep me 
from looking their grey faces

in the eye and despairing

as it called on buds of flower and tree

to make a splash of colour

As if on cue, clouds parting,
wise, old Apollo closing my eyes,

giving all his attention

to persuading this poor body, frozen 
in time as it was,

to empathise with flowers and trees

honouring a covenant

with nature along lines of regeneration

embracing all life forms

I opened my eyes, loved all I saw,

adrenaline flowing again for listening

to your voice in my ear

as clear as birdsong and leaves rustling

in a balmy breeze;

moved to tears, yet not of distress

but as spring rain

brings the dead to life after a semblance

of absence and unfeeling

Blackbird took its leave of me

if not entirely, bidding me enter its song

of spring, and I did;

where it may take me, no idea nor care

just for being at peace

and heading somewhere (with you)

far from that dark place

where the human spirit misled and colour

but shades of spring mist

Copyright R N Taber 2019