proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.
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Whitman, Yeats, Kipling, Dickinson, Angelou, Gibran, Frost, Sandberg, Tolstoy, Cummings, Wilde, Shelley, Rumi, Shakespeare, Wordsworth….
When I hear these names, eloquence comes to mind.
Eloquence, combined with deep understandings of nature, love, and the human condition; poets have a profound ability to both explain and move our hearts.
Granted, I may be biased towards poetry. I’m a poet’s daughter, spoon-fed the deliciousness of words. From an early age I came to appreciate the beauty ~ and the power ~ of language.
So, bias aside, I realize that not everyone appreciates poetry. But I do think that everyone who does, experiences an expansion of heart and mind. Good poetry is arresting. It’s elevating. Some even say intoxicating. Like being dipped inside a rose, the senses enveloped.
It’s also demanding. It requires your attention. Using only words, poetry engages first the mind, then cuts through to the heart.
And though wrapped in prose, it’s probably the most directly communicative of the arts. In its purity, perhaps the most artistically vulnerable. No visual props, no chords to set a tone. A play of words forming emotional shapes, it’s a meeting of pen, mind and spirit; music and painting put to words.
Poetry has many faces, runs the gamut from simple to complex, lyrical to abrupt. Like song, it’s often a matter of taste. But it’s worth a savoring, magical, thought-provoking, reverent taste now and then. It’s the language of love. It’s the language of life, of loss, of longing and lifting up. It nourishes the mind; it’s a tonic for the soul.
A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
