A Misty Rain, Metaphor for Love

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

Sometimes love needs must take its time to find it way through the maze of human consciousness that is invariably bogged down with potential consequences, not only for those engaging with it lovers, but family and friends as well.  

Love invariably asks and deserves such commitment from us all as rarely comes without likely consequences reaching beyond love itself, consequences we need to consider, ask of ourselves whether mind-body-spirit is best served by the heart or  some other abstract often dictated by others in the name of  so-called 'common sense'; their version, that is, well-meaning perhaps, but not necessarily ours

It is a dilemma that many lovers needs must confront and rise above, none more so than LGBT lovers in a world that likes to think it is 'progressive' but continues to be party to socio-cultural-religious aggression, not least regarding sexuality. 

Why, I often ask myself, can so many among humankind who acknowledge that we are all, each and every one of us, part of a common humanity, fail to come to terms with the fact that our differences do not make us different, only human? 

No one culture, religion, philosophy (or poet)  has all the answers, of course, but of one thing this poet is certain; whatever our sexuality, it would be a better world for a greater inclination towards a kindness and understanding that isn't a load of patronising bullshit adopted by those whose hidden agendas require they needs must be seen paying lip service to so-called 'political correctness'.

“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” - Pablo Neruda

A MISTY RAIN, METAPHOR FOR LOVE

Even the sun took time to cry

as we parted, you and I,

not knowing if we’d ever meet again,

heartbeats in a misty rain

We swore to write every day,

be true, come what may,

fear of never seeing each other again 

killing us in that misty rain  

I watched you go, saw you turn,

felt blown kisses start to burn

a hole in my heart where we had been,

left to ghost a misty rain

The sun stayed behind a cloud

as I named my love aloud,

leaving a summer wind to bear my pain

on the wings of a misty rain

Autumn passed and winter too,

yet I heard no word from you;

heartbeat, an illusion, hope on the wane,

love’s dream but a misty rain

Suddenly, the sun reappeared

from behind a tearful cloud,

shining for us, we lifeless flowers reborn

in the sweetest of spring rain

Birds sang all that glorious day

for lovers (straight and gay);

echoes of Earth Mother’s eternal refrain

if sometimes in a misty rain

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2014

[Note: This poem has been slightly revised since written in 2008 and subsequently included in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2012.]

A Gentle Rain

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

"The quality of mercy is not strain’d, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven/Upon the place beneath" - Shakespeare - The Merchant of Venice (Act-IV, Scene-I). 

I love walking in a gentle rain; it so helps clear my head, no small mercy as my head is often cluttered with feelings and ideas I could well do without as I grow older. (I will be 74 in December.) There are days when my bad foot plays up, and I feel so angry; angry with the world for all but passing me by to the extent I feel I'm missing out, but even angrier with myself for feeling this way when there are millions of people across the world enduring far greater hardship and crises. 

Walking in the rain helps me to regain a sense of perspective, often the first thing to go into free fall when a person is in pain or simply having a bad day. Having had this discussion with various people over many years who, at times, have felt much the same way, I woke up the other day feeling an urge to express the experience in a poem, and share it. If one of the worst feelings in the world is guilt, , it is also one of the first feelings to grab hold of us when we are feeling sorry for ourselves. We know there are so many people so much worse off than ourselves, yet that pales into insignificance against whatever it is that's dragging us into a downward spiral we need, want to fight and break, but just can't.

Earth Mother works in mysterious ways; now harsh and unforgiving, now the complete opposite...not unlike human nature. My late mother once commented along the lines that, for her, a gentle rain acts as a cleansing of mind-body-spirit, only temporarily perhaps, but time enough to recharge its batteries and make sense of a world in which every day can well be a battle against bigotry, hypocrisy, dogma, convention...whatever.it is that’s threatening our well-being. Are we or they in the wrong? We need to clear our heads, let inner eye and native sense of fairness have their say...do we not?

I understood that I am gay at 14 years-old, yet throughout my 20's and into my early 30's, I was constantly doing battle in my closet with points of view invariably put forward with a logic of sorts, and with conviction, that would send mind-body-spirit into free fall time and again. As regular readers know, I eventually had a mental breakdown and attempted suicide. Recovery was tough, and took several years, but during that time I received so much support, experienced so much human kindness from unexpected sources. that it bears no comparison with a walk in the rain to clear my head. Yet, the latter, too, has its place in our lives, can help rework and restore both confidence in self and humanity; whether male or female, relating to an LGBT ethos or a 100% heterosexuality, I suggest we all need to find ways to get and stay as closely in touch with ourselves and the world around us - including the natural world - as we can. If a walk in the rain can help, go for it.


A GENTLE RAIN

Traipsing in the rain,
getting soaking wet, beyond caring
about health concerns,
cash flow problems, fiasco politics
and other crises
threatening to attack brain cells
but for mind-body-spirit
having none of it, a gentle rain
come to lift a sinking heart 

Walking in the rain,
listening to a furious past-present
ranting in my ears,
growing quiet as kinder memories
find a way through,
as if summoned by piano fingers
to play favourite songs,
recalling all the beautiful people
that are the better part of me

Humming in the rain,
dragging footsteps now quickening
like a sad heart
daring to retrace the kinder side
of a life lost its way
among the garbage-in, garbage-out
of a human nature
so easily led astray by expectations,
left feeling angry, let down

Singing in the rain,
oblivious to any stares from passers-by
curious as to how anyone
might find within themselves
any such expression
as bringing home the sheer joy of life
for its own sake
to one last seen or heard of on the run
from complex life choices

Clouds parting, Apollo
attending a native sense for human need,
penetrating sleepy clouds,
the better to shine on lonely people
taking on the role of martyrs
by way of covering for the shortcomings
of a consciousness
preferring to put self-awareness down
to a short circuit of sorts

Laughing in the rain, free
as a bird from cares of past-present-future
resolved to let the world
see and take me for the better part
of all I am (warts 'n' all)
like any human being finding their way
through such shades of light
and dark by which Earth Mother continues
to test all human mettle

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2019

[Note: This poem also appears on my general blog today; for any readers who may be interested, I started it up some years ago to help - albeit in a small but (hopefully) effective way - to make the less discerning heterosexual aware that there is more to anyone than their sexuality; many if not most either cannot or will not see beyond the stereotypes surrounding us. As I have said so many times on the blogs, our differences do not make us different, only human.]