Friday 28 August 2020

The Babysitter OR Engaging with Self-Awareness

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

Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2014.

As often as not, it's just before we succumb to sleep that we engage the closest with mind, body and spirit, seeking a reassurance we cannot always put into words, fearing it may overturn us in life's makeshift cradle at any given moment in time, its all but tipping us out already; we can but trust one or the other to find a way to break our fall.

Though any light attracting us be extinguished, be sure we will find another, the brighter even for  n mind-body-spirit having been prompted  to come together, thereby letting us engage with its entirety, and arrive at a consensus during any intervening darkness; that's life. 

Invariably, it is the human spirit that steers mind and body towards whatever our personal potential may be, regardless of our gender, religion, culture, politics or sexuality.

Few of us have an easy life, and I have known my fair share of trouble 'n' strife, but an affinity with nature has invariably seen me through my worst times and celebrated the better. 

As regular readers know, I subscribe to none of the world's religions; indeed, I find them divisive forces. At the same time, I respect the affinity others may well have with their religion as I have with nature ... for reasons (relating more to the person than any dogma) words can barely come close to explaining.

Here's wishing you all love and peace (especially during these hard times of coronavirus) now and always,

Roger

THE BABYSITTER or ENGAGING WITH SELF-AWARENESS

Half-awake,
child eyes homing in on a world
of home truths

Light shade,
a bored babysitter party to a moth's
need for reassurance

Door slams,
rocks the cradle. Could be, a bully
at large...?

Moth and child
so losing faith in Ceiling’s sureness,
sent into free fall

Babysitter
makes a catch, applies wrappings
of make-believe

Bully, spotted
riding a pale horse into (temporary)
obscurity

Moth, glued
to light, a less imaginative humanity
switching off

Darkness,
mind block copyrighting a penchant
for denial
  
Peace (of sorts)
rocking our insecurities, come cradle
to grave

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2019

[Note: This poem also appears in my general poetry blog today; an earlier version appears under the title 'The Babysitter' in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]


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