Bev Tappan

Category: Life’s Lesson Poems

Thoughts on life meaning

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: EARTHLY DELIGHTS

    EARTHLY DELIGHTS

    Those who have waked to the loon’s querulous cries

    And listened to the wind in the white pines sigh,

    Watched the gray fox walk his casual way

    And moose shake the water weeds out of the lake,

    Startled wild turkeys into sheltering trees,

    Waited for the bear and her cubs to leave,

    Lain in the field to applaud the borealis,

    Savored the syrup of Northeast sugar maples,

    Chatted with the chittering young porcupines,

    Admired beaver families’ dam designs,

    These happy few have enjoyed our earth’s delights:

    They will exit smiling into the infinite night.

    (July 2014)

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: THE MATING GAME

    THE MATING GAME

    Two people in a chess match:
    One sets forth a cautious pawn.
    The other counters her halfway.
    They both look for another play.
    Perhaps the bishop should approach
    The queen quite deferentially,
    Or a bold knight might gallop forth
    To look for opportunity.
    One good turn deserves another:
    Pieces freely are exchanged,
    Adversaries overtaken,
    For the climax, clear the board.
    Finally the king stands naked.
    Queenie has him in her sights.
    He will finally be mated.
    She will claim her sovereign rights.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: THE COLOR YELLOW

    THE COLOR YELLOW

    Forsythia’s buttery bursts

    Glow in  the cloudy gray

    April rain, and willows’

    Key lime fingers sway

    In the watery atmosphere.

    I’m on my outbound way,

    Gladdened by hosts of daffodil

    Suns on a dismal day.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: A REMINDER

    This morning while the sun

    Shone brightly on my breakfast,

    I was surprised by one

    Flake of snow, then half

    A dozen in a swirl,

    A billowing, a crazy maze,

    A blinding white, while still

    The sun lit up the haze

    And shortly chased away

    The errant bit of storm

    Back to whatever place

    It had migrated from,

    Leaving me to ponder

    How often the unexpected

    Causes one to wonder,

    Warns me to be prepared.

     

     

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: RELUCTANCE

    RELUCTANCE

    How can I bear to think

    That one day I will not see

    Chocorua’s winter-white peak

    And the Three Sisters Ridge,

    That one year without my note

    Pine limbs will bend low

    And birches make their bows

    Under the weight of snow,

    That I will not add my tracks

    To those of the snow-shoe hare,

    The single-footing fox

    And the high-bounding deer

    While ice particles chime

    In the breath of the winter wind

    And cardinals still proclaim

    Their expectations of spring?

    (February, 2014)

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: THE ENDLESS QUEST

    THE ENDLESS QUEST

    (Thoughts on hearing Marcelo Gleiser, author of “Life in an Imperfect Universe”)

    Let us cease our fruitless search

    For a unified theory of the universe.

    The force that drives the stars away

    Drives our brief forms of energy

    To question, search, adapt, evolve:

    The mystery is not meant to be resolved.

    Perfection is a false and fatal lure:

    The wily fox outlived the dinosaur.

    The journey is not meant to have an end.

    There’s no one answer out there to be found.

    Natural selection steadily proceeds.

    Only that goes onward which succeeds.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: THE LAST DANCE

    • THE LAST DANCE
    • When Death decides to come will he wear
    • A tall hat and twirl a cane
    • Like Fred Astaire? Will he ask me
    • To dance?  And will I dare to say yes,
    • Yes I’ve been waiting for you,
    • And will he waltz me into the sweet
    • Bye and bye down the primrose path
    • And into the wild blue yonder?  What
    • More could a girl ask, I wonder,
    • Than a final whirl into eternal light.
    • 12/29/2013

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: LAST WORDS

    LAST WORDS

    (from Dr. Ira Byock’s book, “The Four Things That Matter Most”)

    “Please forgive me.  I forgive you.

    Thank you.  I love you.”

    “The end of life makes Bhuddists of us all.”

    We once approached St. Peter’s gate

    In fear and trepidation:

    Would he let us in?

    Or sought the Holy Church’s blessing

    The Open Sesame

    To Heaven’s bliss,

    Or carried coin to hire Charon

    To ferry us across

    The River Styx.

    But now we can elect the manner

    Of our dying

    If not the moment,

    And we can tell our loved ones

    That we loved them

    The best we could,

    And they in turn can tell us if

    For all our failings,

    We did some good.

    (RiverWoods, November, 2013)

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: OCTOBER SONNET

    OCTOBER SONNET

    Here in my 87th fall, the tree

    That I admire most of all is that

    Tall maple which is verdant still

    But flaming at the top.   its crowning

    Glory gives a last exultant shout,

    A last exuberant glowing out

    Before its embers lose their fire:

    That is the tree I most admire.  But

    Since I cannot be a tree or emulate

    Its majesty, my only role must be

    To celebrate and drink a toast to constancy.

    So here’s to beauty, here’s to reaching out

    While standing still, here’s to blooming

    In one’s place, here’s to saying yes to fate.

    (October, 2013)

  • REUTEMANN ROAD POEMS: VIGIL

    HIROSHIMA VIGIL 1987

    We stand at sunset on the Mystic Bridge,

    Old friends holding flowers.

    For twenty-five years we have come together

    To sing our prayers for peace.

    Look how the fish are leaping out

    Of the reddening waters, dancing

    To our tune.  They have a place

    On the tree of life and so do we.

    Christ cannot help us, he who predicted

    The end of the world in his lifetime,

    Nor Mohammed, exhorting the slaughter of infidels.

    We must go back in time

    To primitive gods who were earthy

    And love the planet.  We float

    Our candles out on the ebbing tide,

    Out of the river’s mouth

    Into that element that is our element,

    Invoking the spirit of the deep:

    Save us Jehovah, Father Poseidon,

    Preserve our holy waters.

  • MEMORIES: BON VOYAGE

    BON VOYAGE

    Three burials in three months:

    We socialize over your funeral coffee.

    Sisters, you have left the party early,

    Set your atom particles swirling

    And abandoned your good books,

    Flower gardens and canoe trips,

    Spinning off children, husbands and pets.

    And so I plan the mode of my departure:

    Not to be draped in black tapestry

    Inscribed with a white six-pointed star,

    Or canopied in satin spattered by rainbows

    Sifted through stained glass windows,

    But taking a long view of the memorial

    Service through the wrong end of a telescope.

    My bones already oxidized and glowing,

    I will pinwheel into Van Gogh’s Starry Night,

    Hitching a ride to the nearest galaxy.

    The coral shells I leave behind

    Will fertilize another crop of beans

    Or drift in sun-filtering mists

    Onto the fossil seas of the White Mountains.

  • REUTEMANN ROAD POEMS: LOVE WITH OPEN ARMS

    LOVE WITH OPEN ARMS

    Isn’t that the song the sweet birds sing,

    Leaving empty nests like fruit on barren

    Winter trees?  Forget the crib and playpen,

    College choices and careers.  Feed

    Voracious appetites.  Push the young

    Off the edge.  Share the joy of soaring.

    As soon as you have seen them catch an updraft,

    Veer to the south.  Aspire!  Aspire!  Vacate

    Arboreal condos felled by passing winds,

    And leave the marble halls to earthbound types.

    Be vocal on the wing in wide migrations,

    Flying point or following with the flock.

    Our homes are fragile thatch.  Be briefly tenant.

    The air, the buoyant air, is our only element.