Thursday, 2 January 2014

My Heart, My Keeper OR Living up to Love

Let the flame of love die, and civilization will surely perish. Precious little chance of that (he says with fingers tightly crossed) but should the human heart ever let it die, there are many (me included)  that would say its host body might as well be dead too.

When people speak of love, romance springs to mind and lovemaking. Yet, love comes in all shapes and forms, to each a unique signature of its own; close friends; pets, favourite places; music to make us feel we love everyone (while it lasts); stories that inspire and remind us that, for all its ups and down, we are in love with life...and if we’re not, we need to do something about it.

This poem is a kenning. 


I feed the fire that keeps
the light in your eyes burning brightly,
inspires the Sandman
who revisits you nightly till dawn breaks
and it’s Apollo’s turn
to take over the reins of inspiration
seeing us through everyday
frustration and confusion, politics
of disillusion

I am your guide, who needs
no telling which path you should take
through life though
you make one mistake after another,
even lose your true self
among its twists and turns, misleading
signs pointing this way
and that, each promising the fruits
of fulfilment

I am the ghost of lives past
calling from some distant other-world
of its own making
anxious to be heard, reassure us
that life is for living,
each to our own, following feelings
we can’t always explain,
trust the spirit of nature in whose womb
we were born

Find me, keeper of love’s eternal flame,
seeing humanity lives up to its name

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

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