http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Once, I was walking in the town with a gay friend when he suddenly stopped, cocked an ear and told me too listen. Delightful as it was, I could only hear faint birdsong above the roar of passing traffic. "That isn't just birdsong," he said, "that's a choir of gay voices from all over the world determined to be heard whatever it takes."
We walked on...
That was years ago, but I can recall that moment as if it were but yesterday.
WORLD CHOIR
Years, they fly by
like swallows in the sky,
but within we’ll stay
as lively as we ever were
on that first spring day
(or could have been winter)
we joined a worldwide gay choir
born of Earth Mother
Years, they pass by
like cloud shapes in the sky,
our dreams on wing,
past Apollo and on to leave
wishes with a star
for a better world and kinder
where our differences won’t matter
more than who we are
Years, busy panning
powers that be always debating
shades of grey
homing in on us now and then
like a cloudy day
if sure of finer performances
(Apollo inciting romance and kisses)
never left to chance...
Years, they fly by
like swallows in the sky,
returning to remind us
what goes around comes around
like that first spring day
(or could have been winter)
we joined a fine, worldwide gay choir,
our inner selves no older
Copyright R. N. Taber 2012
Once, I was walking in the town with a gay friend when he suddenly stopped, cocked an ear and told me too listen. Delightful as it was, I could only hear faint birdsong above the roar of passing traffic. "That isn't just birdsong," he said, "that's a choir of gay voices from all over the world determined to be heard whatever it takes."
We walked on...
That was years ago, but I can recall that moment as if it were but yesterday.
WORLD CHOIR
Years, they fly by
like swallows in the sky,
but within we’ll stay
as lively as we ever were
on that first spring day
(or could have been winter)
we joined a worldwide gay choir
born of Earth Mother
Years, they pass by
like cloud shapes in the sky,
our dreams on wing,
past Apollo and on to leave
wishes with a star
for a better world and kinder
where our differences won’t matter
more than who we are
Years, busy panning
powers that be always debating
shades of grey
homing in on us now and then
like a cloudy day
if sure of finer performances
(Apollo inciting romance and kisses)
never left to chance...
Years, they fly by
like swallows in the sky,
returning to remind us
what goes around comes around
like that first spring day
(or could have been winter)
we joined a fine, worldwide gay choir,
our inner selves no older
Copyright R. N. Taber 2012
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