Earlier this year I decided to read at least one poem every day. I used to read a lot of poetry, but have gotten out of the habit over the last couple of years. Well, I’m getting back to it.
I heard once that it is the poets who are the guardians of language. I think this is true. Some think poetry is fluffy and frilly and pointless. And some of it is, to be sure. But a lot of poetry is incredibly deep and moving and thought-provoking and powerful. For it is one thing to write a thought or communicate a point. But it is entirely another to craft that thought or idea into a work of art that fits together like a puzzle piece. There is a lot to learn from that.
So this year so far I have been alternating between William Blake and W.B. Yeats – two of my favorites. I thought I would post the ones that particularly stand out to me.
Here’s one that really made me think:
I Dreamt a Dream! what can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen:
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe, was ne’er beguil’d!
And I wept both night and day
And he wip’d my tears away
And I wept both day and night
And hid from him my heart’s delight.
So he took his wings and fled:
Then the morn blush’d rosy red:
I dried my tears & armed my fears,
With ten thousand shields and spears.
Soon my Angel came again;
I was arm’d, he came in vain:
For the time of youth was fled
And gray hairs were on my head.
–The Angel by William Blake