Friday, 17 June 2016

Love, an Autobiography of Everyman

Regular readers will know that my partner was killed in a road accident many years ago. He was not my only love, but the only person with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life, no reservations whatsoever. Sadky, we did not have long together, but his love has inspired me (and my poetry) ever since.

I will be 68 years old this year. For me, it has never been so much the case that that time heals as that any brush with mortality makes life all the more precious while the pain of loss serves to remind us that we are, indeed, very much alive. It is a philosophy that has also served me well since I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in February, 2011.


I have kissed death on the cheek as it slept,
let a flow of memories course my veins
while hope past a grieving heart gently crept,
ghost rider tugging gently at the reins

I have kissed death on the lips as it rested
where nature’s meaningful tides turn no more
nor its finer spirit’s growth arrested
but songs of love and peace, no talk of war

I took death by the hand as it would leave;
its firm, kind, touch wiping away a tear,
prising my fingers gently from its sleeve
in the shade of some makeshift watchtower

Fear not as Death calls or where it takes us, 
but in its wake, be sure to plant flowers

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2007; 2016 

[Note: This poem has been revised since it appeared as 'Love, Testament to Life' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

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