Pat Taub
Because of the way I was introduced to poetry, it took me awhile to develop an appreciation for poetry.
In middle school I was forced to memorize classic poems like Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” I remember standing in front of my 8th grade class, woodenly reciting the poem, then sitting down and that was that. Frost’s poem wasn’t discussed for its beautiful imagery or spiritual meanings.
As I grew into a reader, exchanging books with friends, the poetry lovers among them encouraged me to read more poetry. Soon I was caught up in the transformative words of great poets like Emily Dickinson, Pablo Neruda, and Auden.
As my affection for poetry has evolved, poems have become an important component to my spirituality. I frequently read Rumi or Mary Oliver to deepen my spiritual immersion.
What’s more, poetry has become a gate way for opening new doors to self-understanding and the world I inhabit.
Among the books in my poetry collection
A beautiful poem can awaken my heart. When this happens poems become prayers, like in the opening of Emily Dickinson’s poem, “Hope is the Thing with Feathers,”
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the time without the wounds
And never stops-at all
A young Emily Dickinson (Amherst College)
In her well-known poem, “Now I Become Myself,” May Sarton reminds me of the grace aging brings.
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken . . .
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence . . .
May Sarton in her study
Alice Walker’s poem, “Calling All Grandmothers,” emboldens me:
We have to live
differently
or we
will die
in the same
old ways.
Therefore
I call on all Grand Mothers
everywhere
on the planet
to rise
and take your place
in the leadership
of the world
Alice Walker
Mary Oliver writes with a beautiful simplicity, frequently evoking nature for guideposts. In “Wild Geese,” she reminds me that we are all valuable:
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Occasionally Oliver departs from revering nature to cast a challenge, like in the closing lines of, “What I Have Learned So Far,”
All summations have a beginning, all effect has a story, all kindness begins with the sown seed.
Thought bud towards radiance. The gospel of light is the crossroads of –indolence, or action.
Be ignited or be gone.
Rumi never fails to stir my soul:
Wear gratitude like a quote and it will feed every corner of your life.
The work of the eyes is done.
Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
Wendell Berry’s poems spin haunting visions for living bravely:
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
Wendell Berry at his home in Port Royal, Kentucky 2011. He writes in pencil since he doesn’t own a computer.
Auden is remembered for his poem, “September 1, 1939,” written on the outbreak of World War ll. After 9/11 Auden’s poem was evoked for its relevance to a fresh historic trauma, and once again it becomes relevant as we cope with the escalating war in the Ukraine.
Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yes, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages;
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair
Show an affirming flame.
