Why Poetry?

Poetry for the Soul, is a poetry blog  devoted to the power of poetry.  Poetry’s roots have through the centuries reached deep into the soil of the soul. Today its branches are spanning the continents, reaching out with nourishing fruit on which souls in near and distant lands may sup with equanimity.
In the days before mass communication, the wandering minstrel and the story-teller were in high demand.  They kept alive the glorious deeds of heroes as they sang for their suppers while entertaining castle audiences and tavern crowds with their lyrical ballads, and parabolic insights.
As you read this blog, you will note not only a variety of poetic styles, but also of lyrical stories: allegories, parables, myths, love stories, and patriotic tales. The need for engaging narratives is greater now  than ever before for they produce that cathartic experience which cleanses and clarifies as it entertains.
A drum roll or a clarinet break in a blues’ song often makes a deeper and more lasting impression than the combined instruments of a entire combo. Likewise, a single poem offers a more meaningful and moving experience than an entire book of poems. If, in this collection of sonnets, odes, and lyrical narratives, you  find a poem or selection of poems that are so compelling as to be held in remembrance, the author’s hope of creating a literary fountain to which souls, hungering for power of the word can go for refreshment, will have been fulfilled.
Before introducing the first poem in the collection, let me express through the medium of an incomplete Shakespearean sonnet,  my purpose in writing poetry.

“I write to know that I am not alone;
that when I hunger for a word or phrase,
some source beyond my own will make it known.
My constant quest is this; to raise,
by strength of faith, my soul’s capacities;
to stretch, to reach, and by degrees to gain,
through mercy’s grace, increased sagacities.
Unlike the runner, who would run till pain
has grappled him, my mind will run until
the race is done.  No quitting till epiphany has come.”  

Epiphanies, to me are the objective of any poetic exercise.  I have left unfinished many poetic journeys which failed to achieve that crowning summit of enlightenment. The objective of this blog is to take you with me only on those journeys which rewarded me with an increased understanding.  The others, and there are many, have been relegated to the waste basket.
I invite you now to explore with me the definition of a friend for I have found in the poetic muses to whom I have petitioned for epiphanies, a more than casual fellowship.  I do not regard them as the Dead Poets, but as trusted confidantes worthy of the following tribute:

They are our friends, whose presence comforts us,
whose expectations are not limited
by narrowness of heart, nor by disgust.
With them, no anguish is prohibited
from being shared, nor do they care to bring
to bear by force of will, their views on life.
Their words shed light without intrusive means.
  All their conclusions come without a knife,
for they are kind. In patience they defer
to time, well knowing, that with passing days
and abstinence of light we shall prefer
pure conscience and the wisdom of true ways.
They are a rod, which does not bend, but guides;
a stay of constancy through ebbing tides.

I hasten to add that this tribute to the muses of poetry also applies to my parents, my husband, and my children, my teachers and leaders, and friends and neighbors.  They, like the muses, have recognized in my blots and edits and revisions,  the foot-steps of a  pilgrim whose awkward and halting quest for truth,  is best addressed with patience and long suffering.