poetry is for people
yes, you.
Poetry is for people, did you know? That means you. You, who dreaded reading sonnets in high school, you who is starting to think you should read more poetry, you who has tried and felt like you failed, and a thousand other yous— you or you, or even you and all your mixed-up feelings about poetry.
Poetry comes to us as a human response to life, to pain, to joy, to hope, to the thousand times a thousand things, diverse and universal, that make up this strange experience of being human.
As a Christian, a disciple of Jesus Christ, I believe we were made for poetry, or that poetry was made for us. A third of the Scriptures are poetry, and if God speaks to us in poetry, there is intention, design, purpose in that. Even if you don’t believe in God, poetry has been a response to being human for a very long time. To speak creates the space where poetry becomes necessary.
What is poetry, exactly? A friend asked me the other day, and I stuttered and fumbled over an answer. It is like trying to explain what art is, exactly, or the sky. Is the sky just atmosphere? What about stars? Where does the sky begin? It can’t be explained, exactly. And maybe that’s getting us somewhere. Poetry isn’t saying something exactly. It can say many things, or just a few, not dissecting them dully, but pointing precisely and yet at an angle we might not be used to. Pointing is far different—more open and free—than defining.
Here I am, sounding like an expert, and I really can’t claim that title. I am learning, pursuing poetry in this season, and I invite you to come along. Join me as I read poems. Ask questions of poems. Dare to guess or draw meaning from poems. But most of all, come and enjoy poems with me, gathered like a bouquet of summer flowers, each one strange and sweet and unique.
This is your invitation to the slow meander, the thrilling chase, the quiet morning cup of poetry. Come along? You already have all you need to begin.