The Power of Poetry
I love poetry.
It’s art. It doesn’t pay the bills, it doesn’t serve any practical purpose, but it feeds our souls.
And because it’s language distilled down to the most potent parts, it’s quick, piercing nourishment.
I think it’s the protein bars of the English language. It’s also very vulnerable. To share a poem is like standing before people in your underwear. You can’t even hide behind a couple extra conjunctions or five flowy layers of verbosity. It’s just the bare bones of thoughts and feelings.
It’s also extremely underrated. So I try to promote it whenever possible.
A dear friend and kindred spirit sent me a poem last night, and I wanted to share it with you. Because it shows the struggle we all feel as moms, the struggle to engage over numbing, to stay present over escaping.
So, I give you Brandy Crowell, and a bit of her soul in her poem.
Screams of laughter echo down halls
Little One bounds in
Declares with surprised delight
“We are having so much fun together mom”
This, this beauty that happens when blaring screens are silenced.
I long for this, we all long for this…
Real connection with real people.
Living with the living.
Often I am entranced by the offerings of the glowing tube.
But really a counterfeit life of shallow emotion where I can feel without hurt, without risk, without loss.
The numbing isolation beckons and I escape to this hiding place, this false safe place and I choose mind death.
Today I choose life.
Each moment dedicated to the One who never fails and in His safe embrace I live, free.
The sound of life is not quiet.
Living is messy and loud and tiring and full of joy and learning and brothers loving and sometimes shoving
But it is good…it is better than the clean house, quiet and controlled tv life that happens all too often here.
I choose life
To live with the living and the Living…
In them I find joy
In Him I find fullness of joy