A Poet Explains
Perhaps, dear madam and dear sir,
You might with my remarks concur
As I explain why I insist
That poetry should still exist
When all the world embraces prose,
Though I admit I can’t suppose
We yearn for language made to shine
When common speech will suit us fine.
And if a poem’s to entertain
We only ask that it contain
Some fresh depiction done with ease
To cause a smile and briefly please.
But yet allow me to observe,
A stronger verse may further serve
To light a thought, a scene, with art
And raise a joy in someone’s heart.
With guilt, I know I err too much;
I lack the firm and certain touch;
My lyrics strike not fire, but smoke;
Keen to declaim, I often croak.
Ashamed, embarrassed, I regret
How slowly I am learning yet
The craft of setting up a verse
To share delight and do no worse.
Nevertheless I can assert
A poem’s power to alert
The ready mind to worthy themes,
To lifted life, not merely dreams.
In verses sentiments resound—
Exalted, grander, more profound—
And of fine meanings there are those
That simply can’t be put in prose.
Poets and hearers still agree
In this prosaic world to free
That kind of speech that charms and rings.
Amid the dismal clank of things
Poetic work, in spite of doubt,
Can fashion wonder and share out,
In words that whisper, sing, or roar,
A gladness not made known before.
Having explained, I’ll now withdraw,
And though I lack the means to awe
Still I affirm that possibly
I will persist in poetry.
To keep my purposes intact
And in good will to wish and act
With little but rough lines to show,
Is scant accomplishment, I know.
And yet, dear madam and dear sir,
I might supply what you’ll prefer—
One special factor for delight.
We falter under hope and fright;
Cacophonies abound and jar
While harmony is lost afar.
But if you will give ear and time,
Along with words I’ll bring the rhyme.
Bhikkhu Nyanasobhano is a native of Kentucky who for many years has been a bhikkhu, a Buddhist monk of the Theravāda tradition.
