No. 233 - Last night you asked me a question. "What do you like most about poetry?"

Last night you asked me a question: “What do you like most about poetry?” I did not have an answer. There are so many things. I had to think about it. I had to think about it because I wanted to get it right. I wanted to be sure. This morning I did not have an answer. This afternoon I did not have an answer. It is evening and now I have an answer. I like being lifted up. The view is better and the air is clear. Poetry lifts me up. So I write poetry and read poetry. By doing so I can feel what the gods feel. I can come to know what the gods know. And I can go where only the gods can go. Meditation does this as well. But meditation is different. Meditation cannot be tracked. It’s impossible to read over a meditation. It’s not possible to feel a meditation’s cadence and rhythm and energy once more. Yes, you can meditate again. But each meditation is different. And while each reading of a poem, whether silently to oneself or aloud is different, the poem is the poem and remains constant, the same, unchanging. There is a strength and a beauty in the poem’s steadiness. Against the test and threat of time the poem does not flinch. More and more we are living in a time wherein not flinching makes all the difference.

April 26th, 2020

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