Why the storms in our lives? I’m thinking of the kind that flood rivers, whip up seas, bring down branches and trees, and tear down heavy roof slates. But also of the metaphorical storms that knock us off our feet sometimes, the kind that leave us ‘at a loss.’ For each of us, innumerable, unique, losses.
There’s never an easy answer is there? Never one simply understood reason. But our brains are hard wired to keep asking the questions anyway. And that, it struck me today, is why poetry has been one of the bedrocks of my life. Poets help me to process both my never-ending questions and my never-ending little-by-little answers. Poetry places me among community – the arena in which all our lives are lived and sometimes buffeted by ‘storms’ we can’t immediately (and perhaps never will) understand.
Little by little, poetry – ‘creating something’ – comforts and sustains me. Poets show me that big questions, little answers, and both storm and sunshine – are making something. And I am thereby encouraged to believe that, for all of us, there will be some ultimately good purpose in that ongoing creation.