Friends Reunited

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

Today's poem appeared on my general blog back in December 2010 and, yes, it is relevant to either blog, but relatively few readers accessed both blogs in those days as, for that matter, do now.  I once asked a gay friend why he showed no interest in my general poetry. He shrugged and admitted, "I'm not really into poetry, but it makes a change to read about gay stuff in a poem so... Besides,..." he added, "It's the principle, isn't it...?" What principle, I can't help wondering, as he did not elaborate?

True friends care about each other and show it, through thick and thin. It is a rare thing, these days, friendship. Too often we think we have a good friend until he or she not only stays away when we need them mos,t but also manages to put the blame on us for the fractured friendship.

Sometimes we may call a friend for a chat and they may be busy or just not in the mood; it is so unfair to take offence for catching someone at the wrong time, yet sadly so many people do just that.

Friendship works both ways. Too many people are so wrapped up in themselves they only see it as a one-way trip.

Sometimes a friend may be depressed or feeling so low they have no room in head or heart for anyone else while the condition lasts. As good friends, we need to be there for them no matter what…or how can we expect them to be there for us?

The selfish view some people take, that if a friend has not been in touch they won’t make the first move either, is not what friendship is all about. Among its most important values is that friendship can and often does unite people across a whole world of differences Yes, my cue for saying it yet again - our differences don't make us different, only human. As a common humanity, do we not owe it to each other to build bridges to reach one another, and rebuild as and when necessary? Invariably someone has to make the first move...

FRIENDS REUNITED

I knocked at the door,

again, again, and yet again;

no one came

Eventually, I turned away,

drifted lonely as a cloud - and

then returned

I banged on the door

again, again, and yet again;

no one came

Angrily, I turned away,

ran until exhausted - and

then returned

I yelled at the door

again, again, and yet again;

no one came

Sadly, I sat down

on a step wondering - why

no one listening?

I called at the door

again, again, and yet again

till someone came

[From: A Feeling For The Quickness Of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005]