Soundings

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“Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart."  Victor Hugo 

"You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” ― Pablo Neruda

“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” - Albert Camus

As the war in Ukraine rages on and our hearts go out to the suffering of its people the same heart reminds us, too, that suffering comes in all shapes, sizes and colours within ourselves as well as across the world; were we all better motivated to rise above the latter, peace would, indeed, stand a chance…? 

Spring is here, hopes pinned on winter's passing eventually fulfilled - for now at least. It is, of course, the nature of seasons to move on. Both global consciousness and personal space will need to engage with other winters, hot summers and splendid autumns too...

Thankfully, the human heart knows better than to let any winter get the better of any spring.

SOUNDINGS

Apollo, in no rush to smile
on a world unable to gather up
its pieces, unite and restore
them to much the same as before,
notwithstanding cracks glossed over
for appearance’s sake

Sun casts a sleepy eye on us,
we who rely on the natural world
more then we care to say,
to wipe our tears, make our fears
seem less, have Apollo hear us laugh
again, and again

There’s no hiding the wounds
of war across global consciousness
or personal space…
What we can do, though, all of us,
is bring positive life forces into play;
no small victory

Once defeats looked in the eye
and reminded that none are final
until the last bell tolls
to mark the demise of all that’s fair
and just in the world, mind-body-spirit
will yet find peace

Though calm seas may turn rough,
hillsides become rivers, few survivors,
we can blame climate change
or attend a collective consciousness
hell bent on showing how action speaks
louder than words

Looking up, at clouds making way
for spring sunshine, urging birds sing
along with a joyful clamour
below, nature and human nature
united in an ethos of growth most likely
to bear fruit

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfinished Business

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Friends have sometimes confided that what they regret most in life is never having found a partner to love and with whom to grow old. 

Being in much the same boat in as far as growing old alone, and having lived alone for years. I can fully empathise. 

Sadly, not everyone is fortunate to find a life-partner, and even when we do, life has a nasty habit of taking them from us sooner rather than later. 

Even so, as I have said many times on the blogs and intimated in my poems, love comes in all shapes and sizes; family, friends, pets and favourite places... all have a part to play in having us access the joys of everyday life as well as its woes. 

Love never dies; it remains a part of us, a posthumous consciousness inspiring and motivating us long after a loved one has passed away. Moreover, the positive power of love and all the good things it has to say for itself (and ourselves) will not only overcome any negative influences, but invariably touches everyone who comes in contact with it, whether in person or by way of hearsay, quotes or art forms we may come across. 

Whatever Earth's long-term future, I suspect the power of human love will yet see humanity's survival, its flaws notwithstanding.

By the way, I have received emails accusing me of being idealistic, over-optimistic (and far worse) for expressing much the same views of life and love here in the past. Whatever, it has been my personal experience of life, not dissimilar to that which others have confided me, helping us through its worst patches, even enduring such levels of stress as Covid-19  has inflicted on mind-body-spirits across the world 

UNFINISHED BUSINESS 

I may well come and go,
yet no leave-taking of You-Me-Us
in any Here-and-Now
can ever be forever, if only for a power
in me to strengthen
mind-body-spirit’s eternal need
to share the greater part
of lessons learned in the art of positive thought,
among other passions of the heart 

I make myself known
and partly known to various kith and kin
and (through them)
to complete strangers even, whether or not
they may well prefer
to keep a certain distance
from the likes of yours truly, if only for fear
of being persuaded by those same passions in me
fantasizing a roller-coaster life-history 

I make myself keenly felt
among friend and foe alike, tugging at strings
to mind-body-spirits
by consent or part-consent, unable or unwilling
to resist its pull on such needs
as well may pass human understanding 
for having been moved to trust me,
believe in me, follow its dreams rather than any hypes
of third-party gossip or stereotypes 

I am the Spirit of Love, bringer of such joys and woes
as often have unfinished business with human lives

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

Past-Present-Future, Ringing the Changes

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

Overheard recently, two macho-looking guys pausing to light cigarettes while wheeling prams on a Saturday morning: 

1^st man: “I’m sick of hearing about climate change and how we all need to all do our bit to save the planet. It’s been us against the planet for thousands of years and it’s still messing with us, but we’re still here and so’s the damn planet so... what’s the problem? We’re survivors, right? I mean to say, you’ve only got to see how far we’ve come. I mean, it’s History, right, moving forward and all that? History isn’t suddenly about to put the brakes on, well, is it, I mean to say...” 

2^nd: man: (Shrugs) “History is as the likes of you and me do, I guess. We’ve got things wrong in the past and you only have to listen to The News to know we’re still not getting everything right. (Shrugs again) So maybe we need to take a long, hard look at what we are doing and start pulling together instead of trying to put one over on each other all the time... 

Babies start crying 

Both men (Laughing): “Saved by the bell!” (Moving on) 

What can I say? Two machos wheeling prams and Climate Change getting a look-in has to be good start... right?  Or... yes, what...? 

PAST-PRESENT-FUTURE, RINGING THE CHANGES 

No wind in the trees,
not even the lightest of breezes
to cajole human ears
into listening out for ethereal voices
expressing peace, love,
and that old standby, hope, waiting
for mind-body-spirits to call
them in from as bitter and lasting a cold
as lives but left to grow old 

No flickers of light,
nor even the faintest hint of sun,
moon or stars
to suggest the planet is even alive still,
or else as indifferent
to pain inflicted by its own sense
of crisis, as its better parts
to the pleas of a collective consciousness
for a greater self-awareness 

World, keeps turning,
all humanity ringing its changes,
meaning to sing is praises
while being put through its paces sooner
than later, a nagging need
to keep up appearances taking priority
over its harsher realities
rather than demand its global powerhouses
confront certain home truths 

Re-awakening, the spirit
of past-present-future configuring
human history,
doing its best to fire such engines as keep
a global consciousness
more in step with a common humanity
than have its vanities
see those home truths continuing to mutate
by way of political debate 

Now, feeling, the lightest
of breezes come to reassure me
that I, Reasoning may yet
get the better of all human nature seeks
to divide and let fall,
any picking up and reworking left
to an innate mind-body-spirit
encouraged by regenerative powers of nature
(ill-defined by human history.) 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

 

 

L-I-F-E, Poems for every Occasion

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For many years, I tried to think of myself as an agnostic because I could not get my head around the idea of a personified God. At the same time, I found myself developing a very close relationship with the natural world that was of a very spiritual nature. 

In (much) later years, I would discover and identify with Pantheism. In my early 60’s by now, I was finally able to relate to the sheer poetry of a spirituality in me that I never found in either the Christianity in which I was raised of any other of the world’s religions. 

At long last, I feel comfortable with a sense of spirituality, less of an outsider for subscribing to no religion, while continuing to nurture a sense of purpose in life that, for many years, had eluded me except in so far as to put it down to poetic whim. 

As to whether or not I am a good poet is less relevant than how poetry brings me closer and closer to nature even though I rarely even get to its glorious landscapes now due to mobility problems. On my wall, I have a painting of woodlands I used to explore as a child growing up in Kent.  I often take imaginary strolls in that painting, recapture a spirit of halcyon days that has never (quite) left me even during the worst moments in my life. 

Pantheists believe that God is nature rather than its creator, which may well explain a Poetry of Spirituality that has always seen me through good and bad times, taken me to the proverbial Edge and back time and again. 

I reason not the need; that a spiritual need in me is answered in this way is enough to keep me looking on the bright(er) side of life, its pitfalls notwithstanding.. 

The words of a vicar's wife, a work colleague who told me she enjoyed working with me and was sorry I would go to hell (for being gay, I presume?) lost the power to hurt me long ago. 

If God is nature, could that be why nature does not discriminate in the way many humans (still) do?

L-I-F-E, POEMS FOR EVERY OCCASION 

There are trees whose leaves
speak with the voices of poets, reciting summers,
autumns, even lonely winters
when only robins likely to linger long enough
to promise such regeneration as may yet get to see
its poets live and let live 

There are birds come to nest
and teach their young such poetry of their home-tree
as will see them through its seasons,
encourage them to explore both heavens above,
and earth below, get to know what it takes for kith, kin
and poetry to survive 

There are poets whose hearts
are given freely to an Earth Mother, anxious to be
put through the very motions 
of each season as it comes, share the joys
we take in life, and such sorrow as sure to follow death
as birdsong on human ears 

There has always been poetry
as close to nature as human nature, anxious to see
them working in such harmony
as gives conservation and preservation of species
due priority, whatever it takes to be sure Earth’s poetry
is more than a rehearsal 

Rehearsal for what, who knows? A good start may well be
to listen and learn more from (all) life-poetry...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

An Affinity with Spring

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 “It is typical of spring to tease us with wintry days among hints of warmer, kinder times ahead; likewise, life, as the human heart emerges from wintry climes, and gets to grips with hope …” I wrote that brief introduction to this post/ poem when it first appeared on the blog in 2015. Let’s all hope it will be as true for the spring of 2021 as well. I suspect the Covid-19 coronavirus will still be with us, but plenty of hope too; hope for a vaccine becoming available sooner rather than later. Meanwhile, we are learning to live with Covid-19 as our bodies adapt to it, developing more immunity as we have, eventually, to influenza and other viruses before a vaccine finally became available.

Now, I’ve always dreaded the winter months, never more so than now, but I recall my mother’s approach to it and try to follow her example. “Forget winter,” she would say, “Focus on spring. For its sunshine, flowers, and swallows returning to nest. Do that, and spring will not only arrive the sooner, but you’ll feel so much better for it that even winter at its worst won’t get you down.” Young Roger was sceptical, but … it worked then just as it works for me now, some 70 years on.

Oh, I have a fondness for autumn although it is a sad month; even now, though, I am looking ahead to spring and Hope is already getting the better of Despair. As for any moments of doubt and fear, not uncommon in winters of the heart as so many are enduring right now in this Covid-19 pandemic, there is always the likes of a cock robin on hand to cheer any flagging spirits, our cue to keep looking on the brighter side of life, especially during its bleaker times...

AN AFFINITY WITH SPRING

New leaves
sailing into imagination;
peace of mind
for refusing to cave in
to fears of a kind
defying all description,
assailing senses,
holding the mind, body
and spirit
captive to anticipation
of the worst that can happen
to any of us

New leaves
drifting through our time
and space,
as if seeking a place
to freefall,
while our finer senses
serving mind,
body and spirit to kinder ends 
can only imagine it
as the worst scenario,
resolving it shall not happen
to any of us 

New leaves
like voices without sound
on the ear,
killing off all human fear
of life and death
by returning to the planet
such past promises
of another spring as not lost,
only sleeping,
Earth Mother sending
dead leaves to nurture Her seeds
in all of us

Buds opening
on an old tree, so delightful
to the eye,
restoring a flagging faith
in all things
bright and beautiful,
inviting us
to reconnect, make time
and personal space
for that immortal poetry
of 'live' nature and human love
in all of us 

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2015, 2020

At the End of the Day

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

We should always try and make the most of each day to its very end  if only because tomorrow is another story altogether; rarely more so than now as the C-19 coronavirus continues to spread across the world.

We need to make the most of the natural world, too, before humankind destroys even more swathes of it for its own convenience. While it is true that more people are waking up to their responsibilities regarding its protection, I still see people casually dropping their rubbish in the street (recyclable and otherwise) and/or leaving picnic sites strewn with the same and/or tossing plastic bottles into the sea without a thought for its marine inhabitants ...

Carpe Diem, yes, but with due care for the environment as well as ourselves and others; there is no room for complacency, assuming all will be well since there will always be someone else to make it right; that 'someone else' is no more or less than You-Me-Us, the definitive collective consciousness.

AT THE END OF THE DAY

Jaded sunshine like an amber glow

after a summer shower,

logo proclaiming peace and love;

songbirds on cue;

summer, bursting with pride and joy,

wishing us kind dreams

A pink glow infiltrating grey clouds,

tips of angels’ wings

spying out the lie of borrowed time;

jet lag moon

among laid back stars fodder enough

for a wide-awake media

A grey squirrel turning over garbage

is quick to turn up its nose

at an envelope marked ‘Top Secret’;

kids trespassing a building site

find ancient skulls, bane of developers

gift to archaeology

Night falls, harbinger of sleep waiting

in the wings, time’s hopeful

understudies groomed for second best;

world’s "betters"

last seen flogging half dead horses 
with  Apollo’s  tee shirt

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

One of Us

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An English teacher at my secondary school, way back in the 1950's, once commented that ‘It is not the size of a tree but its perfect beauty that makes us feel small and aware of our imperfections, as nature intended.’ I remember that comment some 50+ years on while I have forgotten most if not all the curriculum he ever taught.

Deforestation and the removal of trees for property development worldwide is a sacrilege against nature, but not untypical of human shortsightedness, its being a hugely significant factor in saving us from climate change ...  and ourselves?  A rowing world population mean more affordable housing and this, in turn, requires the land on which to build them. Even so, we must never forget that we need trees for our protection and our mental health in the sense that they are inspiring features of any landscape; their natural beauty can help us stay on top of everyday life at times when we can barely summon the strength and willpower to get through it. 

Regular readers will know that I suffered a bad nervous breakdown way back in the 1970's; it was walking among trees in a local park that played a significant part in my recovery. Since then, I have feared a relapse and sought inspiration from various aspects of nature every single day, simply as a human being who also happens to be a poet.; it has worked, and I cope with stress better than I have ever done.

“All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”
- J. R. R. Tolkien (Lord of the Rings)

'When the axe came into the forest, the trees said “The handle is one of us.' Turkish proverb.

Yes, oh, yes, the human mind-body-spirit need our trees ... and not just for axe handles.

ONE OF US or BURY THE LEAVES, SAVE THE TREES 

Splendid tree, shades

of green caught up in combat

with a rising insurgency;

patched-up leaves, shades

of red under relentless attack

from native forces

Branches, groaning

for knowing limitations placed

on input and outcome;

canny leaves, anticipating 

Big Combo, taking advantage

of cloud cover

Falling leaves, piling

at the feet of a parent tree

left to watch and weep;

dying leaves, with more

to offer than a half blind Earth

living with heart failure

Dead leaves, poultices

for wounds News editors

will use for headlines;

splendid tree, hopes pinned

on its surgeon, anticipating spring,

and home birds returning

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2020

[Note: An earlier version of today’s poem under the title 'Bury the Leaves, Save the Trees' was first  published in Poetry Rivals: A New Dawn Breaks, Forward Press, 2010 an subsequently in my collection, Tracking the Torchbearer, Assembly Books, 2012.] 

Courage

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

Here in the UK, many if not most young people today have a rough time, especially given that they nearly always get a bad press. There is far too much stereotyping of young people going on. Most manage to rise above it all and make society proud. But if some appear to have lost their way in life, even despair of ever getting a job, whose fault is that? 

Youth unemployment is high across the whole of Europe, and what is being done about it? There is no quick fix, but just because people are young doesn’t mean they want and need to feel any less valued and inspired than the rest of us; if anything, they want and need to feel even more valued and inspired, not repeatedly written off for being lazy and/or potential criminals. Perhaps many don’t have the skills a modern society demands. So whose fault is that? What exactly are our schools teaching, for goodness sake? If education in our schools and colleges is meant to prepare young people for the roller coaster we call life, it doesn't strike me as having made a very good job of it for some years now. 

If mature adults are meant to lead by example, our ‘maturity’ has a lot to answer for. When I go shopping in London or just out for a walk, I am often appalled at the way some people of my generation behave.  Yes, some young people can be ‘difficult’ but my generation is certainly not blameless, and I can see how many younger people are inclined to write a good few of us off for being ‘difficult’, not least judgemental. 

So how about we all stop playing the blame game and give each other the respect and support every human being deserves?

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
― Winston S. Churchill

COURAGE

Wandering dark tunnels,

lost and afraid;

regulation torch for company,

imitation fur for the cold;

phone battery running low by now

heartbeat erratic, 
becoming harder not to panic,
yet where there's life, there's hope 
(or so they say.)

Live to fight another day?

Brave words

when the Dark is rising, Styx

threatening to burst

its banks, flood us, even drown us
should we cease
to negotiate our worst fears,

the darker comedy of our errors 

playing us for human

Look. Listen. Rescuers 
on their way;

Faith, Hope, Charity, children
of contemporaneity
come to lend lost souls a helping hand
who can but run the gamut
of a Here-and Now 
threatening to leave them behind

see them fail

Ah. but where failure rises above its tears,

find courage, too, behind closed doors

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2002

[Note: First published under the title 'Children of the Century' in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Entries in a (Human) Nature Diary

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

Many people - even some in high places who should know better - continue to insist that climate change is scaremongering, fake news or a ploy to distract the path of progress from serving certain business interest enabling  the rich to get even richer while the poor are left struggling to survive for being unable to afford either a healthy diet or take advantage of some brilliant health project to save the world. but likely to cost the earth.

There is scientific evidence- not to mention a rising human death toll -  that global weather patterns  are changing, yet still we hear views along the lines of "That may well be the case, but there's nothing much I can do about it. Let someone else take responsibility, politicians for example.They are elected to serve out best interests so...let them get on with it and see us all safe rather than sorry."

Nothing you or I can do about it? On our own, no, but if people were actively encouraged to play their parts, this sorry world of ours just might be in with an even chance of surviving the worst. Don't we owe it to future generations to make sure they have a future, for goodness sake? I hear religious people saying we should not worry because, whatever happens, this or that dogma assures us God will see us right. Wrong. While I do not subscribe to any religion, nor can I envisage any God seeing humankind right for (largely) choosing to justify its own wrongs along the lines of "Oh, well, that's life."

Me? I do what I can, and yes, it is nowhere near enough, but if everyone did what they could that would make a real difference. As it is, many people don't even bother to recycle properly even where their Local Authority provides the means. Car engines are left running, while their owners shop at stores within easy walking distance from where they live. Whatever happened to walking, by the way, just for the pleasure of it? As someone with mobility problems so need a walking stick, I really miss it. Mind you, the stick appears to be invisible to the push 'n' shove brigade whether I am walking or using public transport. Or maybe they are right, after all, who tell us - that's life...?

Hamlet battles with his conscience in the famous soliloquy, 'To be or not to be...'. Dare I suggest, Do or Die, that is the question with which the human race needs must wrestle with its conscience?

Oh, but enough said, I suspect, if not more than enough of a rant for one post...

ENTRIES IN A (HUMAN) NATURE 

Subtle changes in autumnal light
are closing in on gardens countrywide
as the hands of its clocks
signal the passing of a lovely evening
into multifarious shades of grey

Less subtle, sounds of trudging feet
as the homeless seek a place to rest awhile
(perchance to sleep)
as clocks in the head tick off another day
of someone's battling to get a life

Darker shades of grey, closing in
on gardens countrywide, signal its birds
to sleep, leave nightingales
singing of peace and love take the strain
of falling on deaf ears

Gone black now, shades of autumn
surrendering to the dark of night, no stars
in the sky nor even a moon
able to penetrate a thick blanket of cloud,
heavens closed for repairs

No shelter available a homeless man
other than the grubby porch of a shop left
empty for several years,
profitable enough once, till business rates
demanding an unfair cut

Ah, but moon and stars forcing an entry,
not to be put to shame by such street lights
as have escaped vandals;
the homeless man being led out of the cold
by volunteer charity workers

Such unsubtle changes in day and night
as closing in on wildlife habitats worldwide,
guide the hands of its clocks,
signal a need for change, home and abroad,
before time runs out for us all

Will you take us in, old moon-with-a-grin,
make way for a new tech copycat Noah's Ark
long, long before then?
Dare a world where progress is everything,

risk being left with nothing?

Subtle changes in autumnal light close in

on gardens worldwide, the hands of clock faces

covering human eyes

that will not see, any ears that will not hear,

for fear of having to do or die

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2019

Mortality, a 'live' Canvas

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

As regular readers know, I have not been well for some time, not least due to  8+ years of being treated with hormone therapy for my prostate cancer. Lately, a venous ulcer hasn't helped and arthritis can always be relied upon to make matters worse. It's enough, sometimes, for even a do-or-die spirit like mine to wonder whether it has really been worth every heartbeat. The answer has to be 'yes' of course, misgivings notwithstanding. Lately, I have to confess to being somewhat preoccupied with the latter.

Having to buy a new computer and discovering how much of a dinosaur I am when it comes to matters I T, has finally driven home the fact that I will be 74 in December; no spring chicken, indeed. I find myself wondering what happened to the chicken and taking no small comfort and pleasure in the fact that he is still here to tell the tale in spite of a good roasting along the way. Yes, I could have done some, if not many things differently and better, but I didn't, so why let the benefit of hindsight plague me so? I haven't achieved a fraction of what I once hoped to achieve, and bitterly regret letting a mental breakdown in my 30's become the trigger for looking the world in the eye about my being gay. I should have been open about my sexuality years earlier, especially given that I had realised I am gay by the time I was 14 years-old in 1959...

Even so, I have enjoyed much of my life in my own way, and that has to count for something. More to the point, perhaps, I have learned a lot from some wonderful people who have - knowingly or unwittingly - been my mentors; in good times and bad, in sickness and in health. Hopefully, I, too, may have played my part in mentoring or at least encouraging others in making of themselves what they will, not what anyone else may have in mind for them by way of compensating for their own shortcomings. Self-awareness is one thing, remaining loyal to it in the face of everything (and everyone) that is meaningful in our lives, that's something else. Well, we can but try and that has to count for a lot too.

Every living thing dies, but what never dies is whatever good their their life has brought to someone else's. There may well be good and bad in all of us, but it is the good we need to focus on, the better part of any mentoring because it comprises all we leave behind that's worth the leaving, has been worth every heartbeat whoever we are; rich or poor, whatever our ethnicity, sex or sexuality, there is something about all of us that's helping to write up someone else' life long after mortality has claimed us for its own.

We may or may not choose to follow a path as laid down in tablets of stone, but the human spirit has a mind of its own; as I learned long ago, our differences do not make us different, only human, and  - more often than not - no less deserving of respect. There has been an outcry from some parents only recently about schools having to include LGBT issues on school curricula from next year. Now, the  majority of children and young people are probably the least judgemental members of any society; what is wrong in encouraging to stay that way? I am reminded of the title of a poem posted here some time ago, 'Whatever happened to Agreeing to Differ?'

MORTALITY, A 'LIVE' CANVAS

Time, like saliva on my chin,
mind and body losing momentum,
spirit doing its best
to keep up with a digital world
testing its strengths
and weaknesses daily, yet failing
to (quite) prevent
its capacity for imagination
finding purpose,
though its hold on motivation
losing its grip

Years, trying to catch me out;
the past, much like a walking stick
sustaining my balance
as I but lean on past pleasures
to find a way
through such present predicaments
as ganging up on me,
if only to undermine processes
of thought summoned
to resist  my being outmanoeuvred
by contemporaneity

An everlasting feeling for nature;
a future much like an autumnal mist
screening off any winter
of mind-body-spirit likely to kill off
the life forces
of its spring where sense and sensibility
turning no less
on nature's capacity for self-nurture
than any human interest
in growing things, cashing in on it,
climate notwithstanding

Come that certain moment in time
I exchange the vibrant colours of life
created by engaging
with a capacity for arts-sciences-sports
(whatever cap fits)
for a mortality that's still a blank sheet
despite all the shades
of love-hope-wishful thinking and despair
(for better, for worse)
imposed by various conventions,
underwritten by dogma

No blank sheet, the haunting enigma
we call mortality, our feeling for its poetry
bequeathed one and all
to make of it whatever as needs must
give mind-body-spirit
a fighting chance to rise above the worst
of negative thinking,
reinstate hope, give peace a fighting chance
to rise above our fears,
no tears left to stain the canvas
we leave behind

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2019

Lines on last-ditch Damage Limitation

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Better late than never, humankind appears to be finally waking up to its responsibility to preserve as much of the natural world as it can, given the damage already inflicted upon it in the name of progress.

Let us not kid ourselves, though. Time, always determined to go its own way regardless, is not on our side. If we want to save the planet and all manner of species that have known no other habitat, we all need to pull together now;   each and every one of us doing our bit to save energy, lower carbon emissions drastically if not entirely, think Green instead of relying on others to do so, thereby easing conscience and any sense of responsibility (providing we concede either) … and, yes, we might just save a world worth living in for future generations.

Our young people and their descendants deserve better than the kind of apathy so many people in the Here-and-Now continue to exhibit towards such issues as conservation, regeneration, improving air quality and cleaning up our rivers, seas and oceans - to name just a few. As I see it, quality of life is more important than life for its own sake, and if we don’t all start showing the natural world greater respect now, future generations will be seeing red, not green, and blaming twenty-first century apathy, greed, and an egocentricity beyond belief.

I had a conversation along these lines with someone in a shop recently while queuing to be served. This person took the view that “at least old people like yourself have no cause to worry about what might happen. Even if the worst comes to the worst, you’ll be long gone.”

But I do worry, and so should we all, regardless of who we are or where in the world we live or there may well come a time when it will be too late to worry about what might happen because it already has …

LINES ON LAST-DITCH DAMAGE LIMITATION

In a world top-heavy with pain and grief,

it takes but a butterfly caught in a ray

of sunshine to remind us that Earth Mother

is on our side, each and every minute

of each and every day, ready to give us

a hug when we need it most, remind us life

may be but a fleeting thing yet beautiful

and all the more precious and worth savouring

every moment for that

In a world top-heavy with pain and grief,

it takes but the laughter of a child

running to its mother across home ruins

war, terror or an angry Earth Mother

may well have tried to get across a message

invariably ignored by forces intent only

on making themselves heard above any calls

for peace, love, reconciliation, agreeing to differ

in a so-divided world

In a world top-heavy with pain and grief,

it is good to wake to a dawn chorus,

provided by its birds among trees acting

as Guardians of the Earth since birth

if poorly served in return by we saboteurs

of the natural world so accustomed

to putting our needs first that we forgot

humankind needs see to co-existing responsibly

with nature or pay dearly

Listen. Hear (all) species of land, sea, and sky

demanding we live and let live … or (all) die

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Nature and Human Nature, Rites of Passage

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

As one season passes into another, so too the seasons of human life. For me, the relationship between human nature and nature is best summed up by the words of Albert Camus: “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”

Spring, summer, autumn, winter ... not dissimilar a rites of passage as we humans (whoever, wherever we maybe) journey through the mind-body-spirit of any whose lives we may have touched by word or deed, lessons learned even ... to be passed on, and on again ... until no one remembers the original source yet something of its place on all our learning curves across a past-present-future to which we all subscribe and contribute, each in his and her own way. Such, to my way of thinking, is immortality.

For now, spring is here again. I look out of my window and am filled with the joy and wonder of rebirth. I may not be a religious man, but as I ponder the endless path of nature’s four seasons, I do not regret preferring nature to dogma. There is a spirituality in nature that touches and moves me more than any religion ever could.

NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE, RITES OF PASSAGE

As a new leaf on an old oak,

find a mind-body-spirit regenerating

greener centuries

As new buds on a rose bush

find all animal senses coming on heat

after a wintry frost

As new petals on a daffodil,

find emotions rising above their flaws

on a robin’s wings

As driftwood on home shores,

find young potential needing to be put

to better use than this

As seeds on a southern wind,

find life forces placing time and space

on a learning curve

As pilgrims to raison d’être,

find ghosts dead set on helping us live.

let live, have a voice

As fairy tales to a child’s mind,

find ancient legends wringing metaphors

from contemporaneity

As singing wires to cloth ears,

find rebel green campaigners messaging

the Earth’s naysayers

As ashes to ashes, dust to dust,

find art and science performing last rites

over tablets of stone

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Shades of Contemporaneity

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

We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive. - C. S. Lewis 

'If history repeats itself, and the unexpected always happens, how incapable must Man be of learning from experience.' - George Bernard Shaw

'Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.' - Aldous Huxley

Years ago, when I was still at secondary school (I am in my 70’s now) I was only vaguely aware of a hearing problem that led to my often failing to catch all of what my teachers were saying, and making a fool of myself when asked to comment. On one such occasions, my English teacher, ‘Jock’ Rankin, put it to hoots of laughter from classmates that it’s making and learning from our mistakes that maps out our progress from ignorant to less ignorant to worth listening to … adding’ almost as an afterthought (which it clearly wasn’t) that any learning curve needs must leave us sufficient personal space in which to engage with what has to be (surely?) the most basic among human rights, agreeing-to-differ. 

I well recall thinking at the time it was as good an agenda for life as any. 50+ years on, I continue to find myself thinking along the same lines … although how far that constitutes any measure of my progress through life is for others to say and me to but speculate on (at best) an open verdict …

As every generation must discover for itself, life is a learning curve. We all make mistakes, given that we are but human, and we can learn from these or not; better, though, to consciously move up-down-up on it than let egocentricity get the better of us and turn a blind eye... surely? 

SHADES OF CONTEMPORANEITY

Humanity regenerating
mind-body-spirit, struggling 
to keep pace

Love comes, passes,
a posthumous consciousness,
upbeat heart

Upbeat hearts, tearing
at cloth ears for light at the end
of tunnel vision

Love-hate relationships
refusing to be redefined by ties
that conjoin

Nature and human nature
consigning past-present-future 
to the classroom

Life, death, a passing on
of files confessing to fake news
and stereotypes

Personal space abandoned
at the edge of reason where hope
lies bleeding

Endangered species
clinging for dear life to last straws 
of human conscience

Humanity regenerating
chips off tablets of stone recycled
in time and space


Copyright R N Taber 2019

On Discovering the Bitter-Sweet Poetry of Time

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

As I grow old(er) - I am 70 now - I think less about actually dying than about how about much time I might have left in this life, determined (in my own way) to make the most of and enjoy it.

Incidentally, on the subject of enjoyment, I am always delighted to hear from readers who live in or are visiting London and express an interest in meeting up for a chat, whether over a friendly beer or two, a meal or just coffee. Feel free to email me any time.

Now, writing, especially poetry, may well be my preferred form of creative therapy to keep my old adversary depression at bay (which it does, very effectively) but it has also been a learning curve; hopefully it may be of some interest to someone someday to track that curve from my early to later poems. Whatever their impressions or end verdict, I would hope to get at least some brownie points for having attempted the curve in the first place. This is why, over the next few years, I hope to make revised versions of my poetry collections and novels available as e-books on Google Play to anyone who may be interested; all are on my blogs, but I can’t see them remaining on the Internet indefinitely once Time has disposed of me as and when it will.

Who knows, and what does it really matter anyway? All that really matters is that, each in our own way, we not only enjoy, but also at least try to make some sense of the Here and Now. Otherwise, what chance of our own customised cameos of life’s bigger picture ever finding a place in Time’s endless tapestry of Memory? Moreover, given the integral part the natural world plays in it, all the more reason to preserve what harmony remains between humankind and nature before the later (in time) lets it irretrievably slip away.

ON DISCOVERING THE BITTER-SWEET POETRY OF TIME

It’s a long road that winds

past the cemetery, and sometimes

I’d take a shortcut by graves,

flowers, yew trees, headstones

wiped clean or left to weeds, mosses,

history and memory

Surrounded by an enemy

called Death (so near, yet so far…);

Should I fear or be resigned

to its inevitability, let it undermine
Earth Mother's call to be true, alive

to the Here-and-Now?

The whistle pursing my lips,

a cheeky breeze in sentinel trees

sharing old jokes in the ear.

joyful shriek of starling’s return 
to the nest, flower heads following

my every move, smiling 

Oh, but I'll open up my heart

to a sun that means us well, waking
all of mind-body-spirit
to the eternal landscape of beauty
kindling peace, hope and joy, meant
to reassure us of eternity

No cause to suspect of nightfall

any less of a helping hand from nature

to preserve life, and for every petal,

stem and root that wind, rain,

or human hand displace, more on call

(in time) to take their place

In no time at all, at iron gates

and passing through, Death behind me

(barely a thought) while a rose

in the gutter where I turn

into my street brings tears to my eyes

for its loss forever

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'A Matter of Time' in  A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]