Dear Poet,
I am not a poet. Definitely not one dealing in words. Not yet. May be never! That is not what I am after! But, I am blessed to have read poetry (how many of us do?), I am blessed to have cried reading poetry many times. I say 'blessed' because it indeed is a rare ' approval' of God that allows one to understand poetry. Understanding poetry is not about chance of getting exposed to it. It is about being ready for it. Understanding poetry needs, I would like to believe, one to be more human than others. To be at a higher stage of emotional evolution among men.
And, to be a poet one has to be loved by God. Has to be highest of humans. In love with everything, not only in love of passion, but of compassion (which is free from pity), not only in love with tenderness but with coarse innocence, a love which frees him, time to time, of worries of surviving. And, when that happens words come to him by themselves, effortlessly, all of a sudden. There is no other way, there is no possibility of another outcome (but to become a poet). It is also evident in the fact that the highest degree of love known to men, the love of God, finds expression only through poetry. Kabir sang, Nanak sang, Tulsi sang, so did Sufis. And, they were best among humans too (perhaps not even human, except for the fact that death conquered them too). Writing poetry is not a skill. It is a state of being. It is not about learning to fly. It is about becoming a bird.
All, I believe, before they are poets, struggle to figure out beauty and so struggle with words in expressing it. With growing love, when they develop an eye for beauty, words will not be a problem. Because, beauty, in its most elegant form is always simple, and can be described in simplest of words. The true ability of poet is not in 'describing' but 'seeing'.
For all lovers of poetry it is impossible not to be in awe of poets. The remarkable gift of these men (poets) puts them so much above the rest of us. This awe is not same as one feels for beautiful eyes, or fair skin, or melodious voice, but is deeper than all of that. This awe is for ultimate blessing bestowed on a man by God, the godliness. Awe of the moment when God shared a part of his most important creative power, the imagination, with a human, the poet, and said the magical words " let there be beauty in everything for you". And, to the credit of poets, God did this with a hidden self interest, as all the poetry goes to the archives of God as a reference for his future creations. That's the reason ( gift of imagination, remember!) poets always seem to be speaking of future, of not what is, but of what can be, what should be. It is Poet who decides the course of future of humanity. It is poet who brought us from the days of being little more than a monkey to the days of being some one who dares to dream of looking at God himself eye to eye.
So, dear brother! O poet! Teach us how to love, or, otherwise, we all will keep on struggling with words.
In awe,
A brother.
(Pulastya)
I am not a poet. Definitely not one dealing in words. Not yet. May be never! That is not what I am after! But, I am blessed to have read poetry (how many of us do?), I am blessed to have cried reading poetry many times. I say 'blessed' because it indeed is a rare ' approval' of God that allows one to understand poetry. Understanding poetry is not about chance of getting exposed to it. It is about being ready for it. Understanding poetry needs, I would like to believe, one to be more human than others. To be at a higher stage of emotional evolution among men.
And, to be a poet one has to be loved by God. Has to be highest of humans. In love with everything, not only in love of passion, but of compassion (which is free from pity), not only in love with tenderness but with coarse innocence, a love which frees him, time to time, of worries of surviving. And, when that happens words come to him by themselves, effortlessly, all of a sudden. There is no other way, there is no possibility of another outcome (but to become a poet). It is also evident in the fact that the highest degree of love known to men, the love of God, finds expression only through poetry. Kabir sang, Nanak sang, Tulsi sang, so did Sufis. And, they were best among humans too (perhaps not even human, except for the fact that death conquered them too). Writing poetry is not a skill. It is a state of being. It is not about learning to fly. It is about becoming a bird.
All, I believe, before they are poets, struggle to figure out beauty and so struggle with words in expressing it. With growing love, when they develop an eye for beauty, words will not be a problem. Because, beauty, in its most elegant form is always simple, and can be described in simplest of words. The true ability of poet is not in 'describing' but 'seeing'.
For all lovers of poetry it is impossible not to be in awe of poets. The remarkable gift of these men (poets) puts them so much above the rest of us. This awe is not same as one feels for beautiful eyes, or fair skin, or melodious voice, but is deeper than all of that. This awe is for ultimate blessing bestowed on a man by God, the godliness. Awe of the moment when God shared a part of his most important creative power, the imagination, with a human, the poet, and said the magical words " let there be beauty in everything for you". And, to the credit of poets, God did this with a hidden self interest, as all the poetry goes to the archives of God as a reference for his future creations. That's the reason ( gift of imagination, remember!) poets always seem to be speaking of future, of not what is, but of what can be, what should be. It is Poet who decides the course of future of humanity. It is poet who brought us from the days of being little more than a monkey to the days of being some one who dares to dream of looking at God himself eye to eye.
So, dear brother! O poet! Teach us how to love, or, otherwise, we all will keep on struggling with words.
In awe,
A brother.
(Pulastya)
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