Catching Up with Raison d'être

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The new year has not begun well for me, not least for having to rise above the stress of mislaying my debit card last week, having to rally my thought processes to report it missing (online) and then grapple with various aspects of acquiring a replacement; all tasks I would have taken in my stride even in my 60’s, but for which my 70’s resisted even acknowledging the necessity. My delight at receiving and registering a new card, was somewhat dampened - to say the least - by discovering my old card this morning… in the lining of my wallet where it had slipped through an invisible hole. I was furious with myself, having searched high and low for the damn thing. A glass of red wine helped calm me; so much for promising myself a dry January…

On Friday, I will have a PSA test prior to seeing my prostate cancer consultant next week.  Regular readers will know that I have been treated with hormone therapy since 2011 when the cancer was   first diagnosed. If it isn’t the cancer taking its toll on me, it’s the hormone therapy although I dare say growing old plays its part. At the same time, I am having to get used to wearing compression stockings following my being successfully treated for a nasty venous ulcer last year.

Regular readers will also know that I am a great believer in trying to look on the bright side of life no matter what it throws at us, and I do, I DO; never easy, but always worth the effort (which in my case, invariably involves writing a poem) if only because the alternative is unthinkable.

CATCHING UP WITH RAISON D'ÊTRE 

We catch up,

with each other time and again,

go for long walks

in sunshine, snow and rain,

hand in hand

as close friends do, yet neither friend

am I to you nor enemy,

we pair comprising but one mind-body-spirit

anxious to break free

Born to take life,

in our stride little or nothing to hide

through formative years,

though vaguely aware of innocence

doing battle

with articulation, keeping our thoughts

from getting too close

to home truths, shadows increasingly taking on

an air of being human

Time passes,

dreams, daydreams infiltrating reality,

compromising us

at every turn, mind-body spirit

resisting its dark side,

yet still they persist, those shadowy figures

with human voices,

making excuses for writing off abuses of privilege

as but rites of passage

Come, mind-body-spirit

learning to see without always needing to rely

on the human eye,

hear the tick-tock of the human clock

as time passes,

inhale the perfumes of nature, dismiss bad smells

as par for the course

for better, for worse, day or night, trust Earth Mother

to see us right

So what is ‘seeing us right’

supposed to mean? No more or less than each

to his or her own...

Some will argue we get our just deserts

in any after-life,

while others depend on religion to secure their place

in a Heaven of sorts;

for most, no matter when or how we take leave of Earth,

there is only death

At journey's end, more questions, 

anxious to distinguish an enemy from a friend,

easier said than done

for anyone whose self-awareness

succours the human spirit, 

even while feeding 

on flaws as sure to spit us out 

behind closed doors as expose any shadowy life forms

for who’s who

Yet, no living thing dies

if only because Memory will always care for its own,

nurturing any seeds

we’ve knowingly or unknowingly sown

that may well, in turn,

have touched the lives of loved ones and strangers alike,

our spirit joining theirs

in rising above much the same fears, wiping a world’s tears

for love and peace

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

Logging On To Life

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

Readers ‘Soraya and Magnus’ have asked me to repeat today’s poem as it is their wedding anniversary today and because 'among all the poems in your collection, this is the one we love most.'  It first appeared in a Forward Press (now Forward Poetry) anthology, My Words Are My Voice in 2009 and subsequently on the blog as well as in my collection the following year.

Here’s wishing Soraya and Magnus a very Happy Anniversary, and many thanks for getting in touch. Apart from the fact that I love hearing from readers, this ageing poet is always grateful for any encouragement that comes his way.  [Well, aren’t we all?]

Now, some cruel twist of fate may cause us to lose some of our senses, even most, but never all. For there is one, not mentioned in the poem by name, but will be inferred by the discerning reader, that will always see us through; it is the human spirit whose resilience, sensibility and passion should never be underestimated.  Oh, and yes, it can and often does make a difference.

LOGGING ON TO LIFE

We look, yes, but how to make sense

of a world turning, no matter what or who,

and how to make a difference?

We hear, yes, but how to make sense

of gobbledegook, no matter what or who,

and how to make a difference?

We smell, yes, but how to make sense

of much doctored scents turning the air blue,

and how to make a difference?

We taste, yes, but how to make sense

of the additives and preservatives hullabaloo,

and how to make a difference?

We touch, yes, but how to make sense

of sticky stuff on a knife bent on killing you,

and how to make a difference?

We can but do our best to make sense

of a world turning, no matter what or who,

and try to make a difference

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]