Inspiratonal

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

I love to watch and hear birds. For me, though, (yes, even after the skylark) the robin has to be the most inspirational.

Most if not all of us of us discover at some time or another that parting is, indeed, a sweet sorrow; the sweeter for happy memories that continue to sustain us.

I first read this poem by Emily Dickinson while reading English and American Literature at the University of Kent in Canterbury way back in 1971; it has been one of my favourite poems ever since, also inspiring some of my own, not least the one below.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.” 

Emily Dickinson

INSPIRATIONAL

In a field of snow, I thought I saw

red berries on the branches of a tree,

but homing in, I discovered

it was but the breast of a lone robin

calling out to me

Robin, living in the hope of spring,

where love grows in a field of dreams,

though snow lay on the ground,

Earth Mother’s way of preserving

any kinder options

I stumbled, watching the robin fly

all but blindly, nor was I even looking

for hope to kindle my soul;

you took that with you when you left

along with spring

How my legs found the will to move

I can only guess was to honour the bird

as it returned, its bitter-sweet song

at a twilight in shreds for winter’s claws,

the loneliest ever heard

It was then you put your hand in mine,

and I lay my weary head on your shoulder,

as against all odds we staggered home

together, just as we had sworn ever to stay

through growing older

At the door of our house, we parted,

a glorious light in your eyes like a rainbow

among my tears you wiped dry

with the same hand that still wore my ring,

a guiding light in the snow

I thought I heard you speak my name

then saw it was but the wings of my robin

vanishing where yet I dare not go

but would, in time, just as those same tears

had followed your coffin

If a robin can see the cruelty of winter through,

be sure we lovers, though parted, can too

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2020

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

Redbreast OR Mentor for Winter

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There’s a wintry chill in the air. A neighbour remarked how she dreads winter, not least for its contagious sense of despair. True, in a sense, of course.  Even so the natural world never quite gives up on spring - however it may seem it has sometimes - and neither should we on ours even though, of all the human heart's seasons, its winters, too, are always the worst.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

REDBREAST or MENTOR FOR WINTER

A wintry frost,

but nature not (quite) done yet

with downpours

of splendid reds and gold,

so easy on the eye

A wintry smell

but nature not (quite) done yet

with the scents

of kinder seasons lulling humanity

into false hopes

A wintry song,

its message never (quite) finding

redbreast

preparing to make an heroic stand

against an ill wind

Redbreast, candles to help us see

through the dark

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017

A Robin's Take On Winter

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

Now, regular readers will know that I love the villanelle poetic form almost as much as I love robins...

Once, when I woke one Christmas Day and was feeling sorry for myself as I’d be spending the first Christmas on my own since my partner died, I heard the sweetest sound. When I pulled back the curtains, it was to find a fat robin singing its heart out on my windowsill, its red breast bursting with a pride and joy that touched me as no other birdsong has before or since. Unperturbed by my presence behind the glass, the bird I still think of as ‘my’ robin did not instantly fly off, but stayed as if to treat me to the performance of a lifetime.

We had little together, my partner and I, but I can look back on them with pride and joy rather than despair for never having found anyone with whom I wanted to share my life ever again; we were evergreen kindred spirits, and he will always be a part of me. It could have been so different, that Christmas, but for ‘my’ robin not only reminding me that life goes on even during wintry days, but also there is beauty to be had there, and not to be missed.

This poem is a villanelle.

A ROBIN’S TAKE ON WINTER

Among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping,

singing in answer to a snowman’s call;

world weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

Hungry winter days, a fine harvest reaping

of summer’s illusions autumn let pile;

among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping

If Heaven. its duty watch, faithfully keeping,

why do its tears freeze even as they fall?

World weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

Bleak though the landscape, albinos leaping

like children grabbing time to be playful;

among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping,

Where a silvery twilight stealthily creeping,

interlopers quick to grab its treasure haul,

world weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

As sand in a hourglass relentlessly seeping

via cracks in some amateur’s crystal ball,

among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping;

world weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011