https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
[Update: 11/7/2020: I am often criticised for rarely using full stops at the
end of stanzas; fair enough, but I see a poem (like life and time) as a continuum;
it is meant to give the reader food for thought; for much the same reason, I
often hyphenate words to bring them together, such as yesterday-today-tomorrow
in the poem below. Hopefully, the reader will continue to consider the
implications and relation to the poem’s theme/s long after they have forgotten
the poem itself.] RT
In the closing scenes of a classic
movie Gone with the Wind - based on a novel of the same name
by Margaret Mitchell - its heroine, Scarlett O’Hara, magnificently portrayed by
Vivien Leigh, briefly considers confronting some uncomfortable home truths
before backing out with the immortal words, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.
After all, tomorrow is another day.”
How many of us, I wonder, have told
ourselves much the same thing, and for how many of us has that changed much, if
anything …?
Me? As guilty as sin … as are most
if not all of us.
Meanwhile, while time passes and, for the most part, poor, misunderstood humanity persists in pausing at the brink of self-awareness … if only to excuse this or that course of action (or inaction) should it ever be called to account.
Time, marking the days that come and go in our lives, may well be much the same for everyone; it is how we choose to nurture those days (or not, as the case may be) that makes them unique for each and every one of us, whoever and wherever. Raison d'être, too, is unique, to every individual even in shared circumstances like relationships; I dare say the world would be a better, kinder, place if only we were (all) to remember that, more often, especially those among us - in all walks of life - inclined to rush to judgement.
“It’s the time that you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important…"
- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
YESTERDAY-TODAY-TOMORROW, A UNIQUE
SPECIES OF ROSE
Yesterday, I’d traverse deserts,
goaded by false images to kneel and
drink
from oases of illusion
Yesterday, I’d climb leafy trees
browse the words of ancient
philosophers
in passing clouds
Yesterday, I’d swim in the oceans,
bear witness to creatures choking
to death
on human waste
Today, I’ll try to pass on
something
of lessons learned by the
mind-body-spirit
in poetry and prose
Today, I’ll try stirring cloth ears
all but glued to mobile phones into
hearing
global warnings
Today, I’d do an Internet search
for answers to questions ever
plaguing me,
but, alas, no wi-fi
Tomorrow, I’ll join other nomads
(still) misled by fake news,
kneeling to drink
from oases of delusion
Tomorrow, I’ll ask the few trees
left
how Earth Mother might have had us
comply
had we but listened …?
Tomorrow, I’ll start thinking of
ways
to prevent stereotypes slamming
down the lid
of the box they put me in
Yesterday-today-tomorrow, live
streams
of consciousness calling on Earth
to reconcile
nature and human nature
Yesterday-today-tomorrow, last
spotted
sailing under false colours
where imagination
having settle for cast-offs
Yesterday-today-tomorrow, making
hay
in the sunshine, world
clocks winding us up
and down, up and down ...
Copyright R. N. Taber 2019
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