Wednesday, 17 February 2016

Sunlight, Harnessing Imagination

A few days ago, I uploaded a new video/poem to my You Tube Channel. Some readers have said they cannot access you Tube for one reason or another so I am repeating both poem and video (see below) here today.

Like Graham’s video, the poem, too, invites the reader to focus the inner eye on whatever comes to mind and simply enjoy the experience of sheer imagination as inspired by sunlight among leaves. 

Imagination is a great gift, one that we all have if we only choose to use it, and better still, share it. 

As a means of sheer escapism, imagination can whisk us away from a world of terror and tragedy,and work the kind of magic on us that sees dark clouds make way for bright sunlight. Yes, there is an air of whimsy about the poem, but isn't that what imagination is all about?   

Never be deceived by whimsy; in a world of darkness and light, it has the power to bring light to even the darkest of darkness. Forget simile and metaphor. Whatever our reality, light will always be the greater life force even in death, whatever out colour, creed or sexuality, if only because the light of love is the greatest life force of all:

We take so much of nature for granted. Take sun nymphs among leaves on a tree tripping their very own light fantastic, for example. now there's a magic all its we thought the video - leftover footage from material uploaded to You Tube on another occasion - deserved to be used in its own right. If you are interested in seeing what else we have uploaded, feel free to visit the channel any time:

This poem is a villanelle.


Where poetry chasing Time away
in leaves of red, green and gold,
the children of Apollo love to play

Let myth and legend have their say,
the very spirit of nature take hold,
where poetry chasing Time away

Where tears for fears would stay,
passing years see us grow old,
the children of Apollo love to play

Upon tides of life turning us grey,
return us bedtime stories told
where poetry chasing Time away

For halcyon hours of making hay,
rebel hearts breaking the mould,
the children of Apollo love to play

Come velvet night, allow the day 
its dream-time out of the cold;
where poetry chasing Time away,
the children of Apollo love to play

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

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