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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

Apprentice to Nature

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Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2016.

Since the Covid-19 coronavirus struck earlier this year, I have made many references to the fact that – especially as I live alone – writing up the blogs and working on a new collection of poems (albeit more slowly than I would like) has been a (very) welcome distraction and very therapeutic in the sense that it has saved me from getting too depressed and going into freefall. 

Several readers have emailed to say how attending to their gardens has worked for them in much the same way. I guess few activities beat actively participating in the growth of living things, whether it be a plant of a person. Me, I do not access to a garden, but look over one surrounded by trees, so can enjoy watching the birds and other life forces from my kitchen window.

One reader writes, “I live alone and do not have a garden, but I have a small dog and pot plants that help keep me sane. If I had to focus only on myself, I would be in dire straits by now …”

While the pandemic is a nightmare for everyone, dare I say it I so much worse for those people living alone are having to focus on themselves in the absence of much support from family and friends who may well not be able to visit; contact by telephone and/or video sessions help, but can make us feel so much worse once the sessions ends and the harsh reality of being alone attacks our senses with a vengeance. If ever there was a global need for

positive thinking, it is now as some countries like the UK emerge from lockdown while dreading a return of the coronavirus before a vaccine can be found.

My mother loved gardening. She saw herself as foster mother to the plants, flowers and wildlife she took under her wing. "It's much like bringing up a family," she once commented wryly, "they give far more pleasure for pleasure's own sake than by way of any compensating for what's best forgotten..."

Audrey Hepburn is often quoted as having said, 'To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.'

Now, I have always been a Hepburn fan, not least because I, too, discovered years ago that positive thinking will see us through just about any of the negatives life throws our way or puts in our heads; we just have to believe in tomorrow. (Did I say it was easy...?)

Stay strong, folk, and think positive.

This poem is a villanelle.

APPRENTICE TO NATURE

Proudly, much like a lover,

a flowering of its time like no other,

creating an evergreen border

Watching it grow, mature,

as per laissez-faire of Earth Mother;

proudly, much like a lover

Every second, minute, hour,

dreams to share in, store and nurture,

creating an evergreen border

Mixed emotions undercover

yet rising to every occasion (whatever)

proudly, much like a lover

A pupil-apprentice to nature,

the best part of any past-present-future,

creating an evergreen border

Humanity, common gardener,

marking the fruits of selfless endeavour;

proudly, much like a lover,

creating an evergreen border

Roger N. Taber 2016

[Note: If you ever want to contact me - rogertab@aol.com - please put 'Poetry' in the subject field or it will be ignored. All non-spam emails will receive a reply although there may be a short delay as I have various health problems at the moment.]

Nature and Human Nature, a Collage

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Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2013.

A reader asks if I have found a publisher for my next volume of poems, especially given that I have had to self-publish in the past because no publishers wanted the gay input. Well,no, I haven't, but am not really looking at the moment, as I still have not made up my mind whether or not to just self-publish a few hundred volumes and put the collection on-line at a later date. The same reader asks, "Why bother as your poems are on the blogs anyway?"  While not apprehensive about the possibility of dying (it has to happen sometime, after all)  I have to be pragmatic about life expectancy given that I will be 75 later this year and have been living with prostate cancer, along with other health issues, since 2011. I doubt whether Google will keep my blogs for long after my demise, and I want people to be able to continue accessing my poems. Should the Grim Reaper come calling before I am ready, a close friend has said he will see to it that my poetry collections go online. 

Meanwhile ...

Life is frequently inclined to behave like a rush hour commuter, shoving us this way and that until we are confused, angry, despairing to the point of giving up the daily struggle to survive on the best terms available to us; especially true for many if not most of us, I suspect, as we continue to do battle with mixed social and personal circumstances imposed as a direct consequence of Covid-19.

We may well seek some respite with nature.  Indeed, and why not?  For it is nature’s way more often than not to offer peace of mind, comfort, reassurance and hope as well as putting everyday human crises in perspective.

Ah, but neither does nature shirk from putting us mortals in our place any more than we mortals, each other.

NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE, A COLLAGE

Dogma, missiles homing in

on the most vulnerable

Heavens, healing wounds,

all God pundits divided

By dawn, subtle birdsong

calling out for a kinder world

Clouds, weary foot soldiers

haunting political stirrers

High noon, tears of the sun

(for all humanity's prejudices)

Dead leaves, Earth Mother

close to giving up on us all?

Twilight, wrapping-up time

if only to hide humanity's mess

Sunsets, Apollo’s blushes

(for humanity's mistakes?)

Stars, all eyes on our 'betters'

ever negotiating new moral highs

Darkness, mind over matter;

(pause-for-thought heroics)

Sleep, rescue from human freefall

(if only a temporary measure)

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

Spring, Blueprint for Life OR Never, but Never say Die

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Spring may well be some way off yet here in the UK,but yesterday I spotted my first daffodils of 2020, and experienced a deep sense of relief that winter is all but done with us... for now, at least, although a winter of the heart is something else entirely.

Oh, my, how time flies! Scary, yes, but (as regular readers will know) I for one take reassurance in the fact that spring always follows winter…

Renewal, of course, includes reconciliation, not least with ourselves and consequently (hopefully) with each other and Earth Mother, both having a nasty habit of seeming to turn against us as winter proceeds, often harshly and uncaring, spreading discontent at every turn.

The genesis of this poem appeared in my secondary school magazine. I was aged 11 years at the time. (Are we really in 2020 already, and will I really be 75 later this year?) Oh, well, time waits of no one and we must make the best of what time we have, each in our own way, whatever our circumstances. 

Spring, too, may well rescue a human spirit in free fall; nor does religion  have a monopoly on spirituality since the human spirit may well choose a different path which we should attempt to understand before rushing to any judgement, especially given that our differences do not make us different, only human. (As good a reason as any for this poem appearing on both poetry blogs today.)

So, what am I saying? Well, I'm sure you will have worked it out, but in case you are left in any doubt ... whatever life forces are getting you down, never, but never say die. 

Yes, we do die, all of us, but, like nature all around us, we live on ... and will return in the hearts and minds of others, a posthumous consciousness that may not be equal to the real thing, yet is just that in many ways; whenever we need a comfort zone or are mulling things though, we are most likely to turn to those whose opinions we value the most, whether they be alive or dead.

We all have wintry days, and the need to seek inspiration, beauty and hope in the multiple life forces ever-present in a springtime... only ever a heartbeat away.

SPRING, BLUEPRINT FOR LIFE or NEVER, BUT NEVER SAY DIE

In the air, a sense 

of renewal, everywhere,

bluebells ringing out 

their message of peace, 

love and rebirth,

imaging a passage of seasons,

(shortcut to Eternity)

where every human heart

dares share its secrets

with Earth Mother for all

Time will (as likely as not)

cajole us to forget

Oh, but listen, listen

to a global consciousness

forever intoning rites

in the wind, summoning

all ghosts of love

and peace to haunt our dreams,

revisit their seasons, feed us 

hopes laid low by winters

come and gone, restored to life

by the Spirit of Spring

urging us to enjoy its scents,

and follow, follow...

Humanity, unequalled

in the art of shadowing nature,

ever anxious to pass on

its secrets and discoveries

in theories, treatises, 

stories and poems generations

will tell, retell and embellish 

(as likely as not) in its archives, 

revealing a hint (at least) 

how taking advantage of nature

still saw a forgiving Earth Mother

mindful of its future

Spring, all things bright and beautiful,

blueprint for human potential

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002, rev. 2020

[Note: Subsequent to its appearance in my school magazine at the age of eleven, the genesis of this poem also appeared under the title 'A Hymn to Spring' in an anthology, The Joy of Spring, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2001 and later in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Nature and Human Nature, Rites of Passage

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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

The Zen of Renewal OR Outlook, Positive

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So many people tell me every year that they dread January 1^st, a whole new year stretching ahead that is unlikely to live up to either Happy Christmas or New Year celebrations. January sales on the High Street are more likely to be suspect than generous (shifting unwanted stock) and any excitement over ‘bargains’ short-lived. 

So, what next? What, indeed…? Dare I suggest it is down to us…not circumstances-beyond-our-control or fate by any other name …but us. 

Oh, we are not entirely in control of whatever life dishes us. That is SO true. We ARE, though, in control (if we choose to take it) of how – in the longer term at least – we choose to respond. We all have choices and many if not most of these are not easily made, but choosing positives over negatives has to be a good thing … well, doesn’t it?

Now, if New Year creates a sense of renewal in us, that is just the start - albeit a good one - of a lifetime process; we  need to keep up the momentum during the months to come, do our best to stay positive whatever life (and weather) chooses to throw at us. (Did I say it would be easy?)

An integral part of the human condition is its spirit, regardless of whether or not we subscribe to any religion; we need to trust it to see us through any bad times and return us to a positive sense of who we really are ... better than the worst life can throw at us, for a start

Once we start feeding negative thoughts into mind-body-spirit, the chances are it will go onto free fall sooner rather than later. I've done that, been there and ... never again, if I can help it.

Here's wishing you all a Happy, Positive and Peaceful life,

Love 'n' Hugs,

Roger x

THE ZEN OF RENEWAL or OUTLOOK, POSITIVE

Another year begs

to be enjoyed for its own sake,

not as reparation

for others that have let us down,

failed to live up

to expectations feeding dreams

that fail to mature…

because that’s just how it is,

the way we are?

Another year

pleads a chance to prove itself,

not as reparation

for glossing over past misfortunes

turning mountains

into molehills so the human ego

can rest easy…

because that’s just how it is,

the way we are?

Another year

when looking back at negatives

will get us nowhere

unless it’s back where we started

before we began

to get wise to false promises

and fake news…

because that’s just how it is,

the way we are?

Another year,

urging mind-body-spirit to listen

to its weaker self

focusing on losses, regrets, mistakes,

and making excuses

for not looking on the bright side

of life…

because that’s just how it is,

the way we are?

Another year,

making time to let a dawn chorus

reassure us all

that nature and human nature but wait

to be embraced

in a spirit of hope-peace-love

(raison d’être)

because that’s just how it is,

the way we are

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

When Winter Comes OR Mind-Body-Spirit, Never Say Die

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

Many of us, enjoy the colours and subtle nuances than falling leaves in autumn all the more because needs must we brace ourselves for what could well be a hard  winter ahead weather-wise. 

Others may well face a testing winter of the heart, wherever they may be, regardless of time and seasons. Some may well argue it’s a case of the survival of the fittest, and there is a lot of truth in that, but the physically weak can also be emotionally strong; strong enough even to rise above  wintry blasts of depression, anxiety, everyday concerns …

We have but to give a natural lust for life its head and the chances are its predilection for positive thinking will, in time, rescue us from the pull of negative forces, bypass even the most heroic stoicism, and allow an innate optimism, Hope’s much loved bed-fellow, to once again play a leading role in our lives.

Wherever we may be in the world, whatever its weather patterns, day will always follow night just as winter will always follow spring on the calendar of nature and human nature alike; the latter, though, needs must find a way to turn on the power of mind-body-spirit to save its natural optimism from dying just long enough to rediscover that raison d’être which has to be as good a metaphor for spring as any other.

WHEN WINTER COMES or MIND-BODY-SPIRIT,  NEVER SAY DIE

Oh, but when winter comes,

I look around and see trees stripped bare,

and petals in tatters where flowers

once lifted this heart now close to tears

for having watched the swallows fly south

that once greeted its spring

Oh, but when winter comes,

I look around at snowfall on the ground,

see children playing, laughing,

making merry with each other instead

of being glued to social media in a world

whose seasons rolled into one

Oh, but when winter comes

find the days grow shorter, nights longer,

all the more so for a prevailing

north wind wailing like some lost spirit

of summer trying to find its way back home,

familiar landmarks wiped out

Oh, but when winter comes,

I’ll see robins give the lie to defeatism 

in as sweet a song as ever there was

to fill a sad heart with hope for a future

beyond any wintry landscape’s implying

positive thinking is a cruel hoax

Oh, but when winter comes,

I’ll get together with friends, make light

of any feelings of empty days

or lonely nights for hearts beating in time

to what is, after all, but an overture to spring

composed-performed by nature

Oh, but when winter comes,

may divided societies around the world

yet join hands and dance

to the music of its time, fan any flickering

peace-liberty-fraternity into a flaming spring, 

season of second chances...

Copyright R N Taber, 2017

My Friends, The Trees

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

Sometimes it can feel as if our world has come to an end or is closing down on us like the curtain on a Shakespearean tragedy.  

I have often felt that way, even as a child (when no one took depression in children very seriously if at all) and have spent the best part of a lifetime finding ways of restoring a view of life and self that gives rise to optimism rather than pessimism.

Creative therapy (writing) and reading have played a vital part in my battle to beat depression, but it is nature that has proved my salvation.  While not even the finest arts can copy it, a troubled mind, body, and spirit can do far, far, worse than try. So it has been with mine since my partner died even though we were together but a few years and it was a long time ago. My mother’s death, too, affected me deeply. 

Yet, the trees remain, the same trees we walked among, talked among, and rested among to enjoy leafy kaleidoscopes and create our own; trees now bursting with life, now all but dying only to thrive again according to time and season. Such is the stoicism of nature from which the human body-mind-spirit can take heart if it will but pause long enough to look and see, listen and learn…

MY FRIENDS, THE TREES

I never felt so alone

as once you were gone,

drab days stretching

on and on like dirt tracks

leading nowhere

but deeper into woodlands

where no sun shining,

birds singing or rabbits

teasing the eye

Then a day came, 

long after you were gone,

I chanced to spot

a chick sparrow fly the nest,

hover uncertainly,

fledgling wings in a flap,

but only briefly

before soaring up, up,

and away 

I followed its flight,

spotted a trickle of sunlight

bursting through trees

whose spring leaves

dripped rainbows on the eye,

restoring colour 

to a world left colourless 

since you painted me

out of it

Suddenly, the inner ear 

hears once more, inner eye

can see again,

empty heart starting to fill

(if slowly) with joys 

of spring, reawakening

happier times, 

trying out heart strings

and retuning 

Oh, but less lonely now,

befriended by trees, lifted

by ages-old tales

of love and peace, songs

celebrating life,

poems reflecting that death

must wait its turn

while we relish the thrill

of first flight

Sparrow flies into tree,

possibly same bird, same tree,

but not the same me, 

loath to leave my friends,

the trees, yet anxious

as they to remind the world 

it’s spring, 

body, mind, and spirit 

overflowing

Copyright R. N. Taber 2014

New Year, New Hope, Old Story

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Today’s poem first appeared in Poetry Monthly International (sadly, since discontinued) in 2008 prior to its inclusion in my collection. It seems an appropriate enough poem for today since this evening will be New Year’s Eve.

Let’s just hope the celebrations will not be premature and that the 2014 brings more than just hope for world peace and a genuine sense of reconciliation between its divided socio-cultural-religious groups; a recognition, too, of basic human rights for everyone regardless of colour, creed, sex or sexuality, especially in those areas of the world and its societies that encourage if not legislate a policy of persecution.

NEW YEAR, NEW HOPE, OLD STORY

Bursting into the New Year

with a sing-song and a prayer

for peace across the world

Toasting our tomorrows

by way of drowning sorrows

for not letting go of pain

Putting on a smile, laughing

at sick jokes, better than crying

for the price of our mistakes

Brave New Year resolutions

little more than poor solutions

to centuries-old problems

Humankind’s record so poor,

less likely to make peace than war

if good at saying prayers…

Higher and farther they fly,

fine words across a New Year sky,

only to repeating history...

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Unfinished Symphony

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Strange, isn't it, how one recalls the oddest things about school days...?  I was listening to a bird singing its heart out on our classroom window sill and missed a question put to me by my English Teacher. Without thinking, I confessed the reason, adding for good measure that it sounded as if it was trying to tell us something. (I was known to be something of a dreamer even in those days and had written poems for the school magazine for which I was often mocked although never nastily). 

The rest of the class burst out laughing. 

My ears burned on receipt of some good-natured jeering. Expecting a reprimand, I was surprised (and not a little relieved) when the teacher commented, 'Nature is always trying to tell us something, Taber. The trouble is, only the likes of painters and poets can ever be bothered to listen. Now, where was I...?" whereupon he proceeded with the lesson without my ever knowing what his question had been. Such is life, I guess, where time - up to a point - is customised, and rarely (if ever) finished with us until we are finished with it.

This poem is a villanelle.

UNFINISHED SYMPHONY

Music of the Earth
invoking its biography,
at birth and rebirth

Come sorrow, mirth,
(womb-tomb of history)
Music of the Earth

Playing up to a dearth
of uncommon humanity
at birth and rebirth

Testament to its worth;
(crescendo, an epiphany)
Music of the Earth

At humankind's hearth,
an unfinished symphony
at birth and rebirth

Nature, eternal wreath
celebrating Man's integrity;
Music of the Earth
at birth and rebirth

Copyright R N. Taber 2009; 2018

[Note: I only recently revised this poem, and I dare say those readers who had already taken me to task for indulging in so-called 'poetic license' regarding its rhyming scheme will be disappointed, but that's poets for you, we cheat sometimes...]

Spring Sunshine

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We talk about the spring, summer, autumn and winter of our years (which probably places me in mid winter) but I suspect that for most if not all of us, at heart anyway,  it’s always spring…

[Photo taken from the Internet]]

SPRING SUNSHINE 

Oh, for spring’s leafy corner of the heart

where I love to lie and watch the sunrise,

a beacon of hope to guide us at the start,

its life-shadows playing tricks on our eyes

Each time a cloud passes over my head,

they home in on me, such shadows, on wing,

like birds of prey demanding to be fed

or winter dreams grown impatient for spring

Clouds pass, leafy sky fills with song again

come the sun at noon and twilight’s descent;

though shadows chill a heart like winter rain,

in one corner, spring sunshine never spent

Where nature gives and nature takes away,

in love’s leafy corner, spring sure to stay…

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2013

[Note: The first line of the final couplet has been revised from an earlier version of this poem that appears in 1^st eds. of Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; 2^nd (revised) e-edition in preparation.]