Tide, Turning

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

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson 

“Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.” – Gustave Flaubert

“Life begins on the other side of despair.” - Jean-Paul Sartre

Now, we never feel so alone as when we despair, for whatever reason. It is an awful feeling, a sense of being adrift and close to drowning in personal space; at least, though, it gives human nature an opportunity to come into its own and set out to prove that mind-body-spirit can do better… if we but give it a fighting chance.

TIDE, TURNING 

All but drowning,
voices asking only that You-Me-Us
re-engage, left struggling 
to keep mind-body-spirit abreast
of vital life forces
separated from a heart-and-soul
gone absent without leave, 
adrift in personal space, seeking a lifeline,
to be restored, forgiven

All but drowning,
half-heartedly attempting to keep pace
with other fishes in a sea
of mixed feelings, pulling me this way
and that, a fickle tide
now consenting to keep me afloat,
now dragging me under,
arms, legs, putting on a show of emulating
the lesser art of living

All but drowning,
vague voices assuming greater clarity,
like a new moon’s rising,
penetrating even the cloudy darkness
of a mind-body-spirit
war-weary of ways of the world,
lost all faith in humanity
nor trusting promises of divine intervention,
yet...stirrings of motivation?

Positive thinking,
tide turning, a sense of its siding with me,
stinging like a sea anemone
but not fatally, as if issuing a challenge
I’d be a fool to ignore,
reminding me there’s no sense in giving in
without at least attempting
a kinder endgame, a chastened heart-and-soul
stepping up, getting real

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022