I Believe in Poetry

Tue, 02/13/2018 - 21:57 -- AbelPax

I believe in poetry. Not just art created by wizards of words, but physical poetry. I believe in finding the symbolism and meaning of moments in everyday life. Every cobblestone brick you step upon is another corner of parchment the ink oozes, drips, and swirls across to write the story of today. A tree is not just a tree it is a symbol of complexity and unity of nature. From the bird living in agreement with the branches, to the leaves drawing in sunlight to create life for the blossoms. I believe in finding the hidden beauties and joys this life has to offer.

Life is so much richer if we decide to find meaning. If It rains I can sigh, roll my eyes, and become as gloomy as the sky above me, or I can see it as a reminder of the renewal of the earth around me. The world becomes more beautiful and intriguing as we focus on the loveliness of life. We do not notice how street lamps stand out from the night like manmade stars shining a promise of hope for tomorrow.

Now, I believe in poetry and not the naivety of optimism. As Poe taught us some of the best and most beautifully written words are dark and twisted, dark and twisted is still beautiful. An antique store could bring to mind that all of the women that have stared into the rose-colored glass have now passed on. This is not exactly a happy thought, but it brings a deeper meaning to the antique than just your reflection.  Every poet has a dictionary, full of every word they could possibly use to being life to their thoughts. The same way the world gives us moments and sights that we can use to increase our view of the world.

Of course, meanings are not actually attached to these things a tree is a tree, and a streetlamp is a streetlamp.  The Berlin wall itself is just a block of cement covered in graffiti. However, we put a meaning to that wall. It was a symbol of a war against freedom and when it fell how the world around it rejoiced, danced, and sang. Lennard Bernstein recognized this meaning to the wall, he saw how people reacted with such immense joy. So much so, he performed the Ode to Joy, as a triumph over the tumbled stone. He changed the words of the song from “joy” to “freedom”. A wall holds no meaning of freedom and a song is just a systematic sound, but we decide to put life into the dry and color into the dull. Just as we can find meaning in the Berlin wall we can find meanings in the little moments of everyday life. I believe that we are all poets capable of seeing the world as a more entrancing and delightful place.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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