ADRENALINE RUSH
Words of love tumble like Niagara
from heavenly heights, a thunderous roar
of metaphor, simile, rhythm and rhyme,
a wondrous sight, vision to behold…
only to be carried along some eternal river
of the soul about which tales are told
but no one ever goes for fear the unknown
prove too much, poetry alone no match
for a frantic tide of mixed emotion, devotion
to themes of love, desire, need, drawing
crocodiles to feed, swallow us whole who dare
take a chance on our dreams; instead, we act
the sightseeing tourist snapping for the album,
keeping a diary of nature’s unsubtle cut
and thrust, mocking the foibles of humanity
with such sheer profanity that we hear old gods
laugh, call out names (meant to provoke us
to take action?) as we but watch in awe, give
Imagination its due, soaked in the spray
of an elixir of youth, testament to the truth
of our inhibitions if we but care to admit,
rise above, meet the death defying challenges
of life and (most of all) love’s finer glory,
the, oh, but never ending story of a waterfall
bringing our senses into full play
bringing our senses into full play
Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2010
[Note:This poem has been slightly revised since it last appeared on the blog under the title 'Adrenaline' and in A Feeling for the Quickness of
Time by R. N. Taber,
Assembly Books, 2005.]
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