Sunday, 7 April 2013

All In Good Time

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

I have written several poems about my feelings regarding my having been diagnosed with prostate cancer in February 2011; it is not thought to be aggressive, and ‘more of a pussycat than a tiger’ according to my consultant. .

A neighbour (who chose a different course of action) thinks I am ‘courting death’ by changing my mind about having radiotherapy and settling for hormone therapy. He could well be right of course. It is certainly not a decision that would suit everyone. Nor, I have to say, is it one that I have taken lightly. However, I don’t see my decision as courting death, but courting life.

No worries. Basic instinct tells me (as it did before I panicked and opted for treatment) that I have a good few years left in me yet. Besides, it is a fact that more men die with prostate cancer then from it. Yes, I could be making a mistake. Let’s hope I’m not, yeah?

Where there’s life there’s love, and where there’s love that’s enough for me. I may not have a partner now, but I still love him; others, too, who have been or still are in my life. I trust them and Earth Mother to see me through.

ALL IN GOOD TIME

Death comes to us all,
even if its when, where and how
but minute specks
on the hands of a kitchen clock
inviting us to rustle up
some good times, serve them up
to memories always hungry
for leftovers of a favourite dish
created with loving hands

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
hands of an alarm clock moving
too fast for us
as we lie in each other’s arms
after making time for love
before the work ethic demands
we answer its call,
steer a course as best we can
to kinder shores

Tock-tock, tick-tock,
hands of cloud clocks inviting us
to run races we cannot win,
but can still have some fun trying
for a place in the role call
of winners, losers and also-rans
reeled off by commentators
making love to their microphones
in soundproof boxes

Life favours us all,
even the when, where, and how
of its telling notches
on the hands of a kitchen clock
inviting us to rustle up
some good times, serve them up
to memories always hungry
for leftovers of a favourite dish
created with loving hands

[London: August 5th 2011]

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

No comments :