Something inwardly portable

Yesterday I wrote of American poet Edgar Allan Poe and the subject of beauty, and of English poet Ted Hughes suggesting to children that poems may lend a measure of permanence to a thing – something, at least, that might have a life beyond that of the poet. And – as so often – one thing leads to another; that’s how it is with poetry, the great galleries and the little sitting rooms of our remembering and articulation, that’s how it is within the libraries of heart and mind and bookcase. Today I’ve come across thought not dissimilar to that of either of the above. Art critic John Berger wrote:

All the languages of art have been developed as an
attempt to transform the instantaneous into the
permanent. Art supposes that beauty is not an exception
– is not, in despite of – but is the basis for an order …
Art is an organised response to what nature allows us to
glimpse occasionally … The transcendental face of art
is always a form of prayer.

John Berger
The White Bird, writings edited by Lloyd Spencer, page 9

Perhaps the host of art forms, the “poetry” we make in our own lives – in our homes, in our various arts, creativity and employment, in partnership, family life and friendship, in the communities in which we live, and in our wider shared experiences – are our attempts to co-create something inwardly portable, like treasured keepsakes, of life-elements in this world that are essentially transient. The Creator of all that is, including all we have loved, all who have loved us, all that we have helped to create – invites us, beautifully, (to pinch a line from a gorgeous, if not entirely related, Chris de Burgh song – YouTube here) to

Carry Me, (Like A Fire In Your Heart)

even as we ourselves are carried …

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