Beauty Breathes: Why Poetry Matters Edition

Beauty Breathes: Why Poetry Matters Edition

"...let it be known you’re willing to suffer
only in proportion to your errors,
not one unfair moment more.
Insist on this as if it could be granted:
not one moment more."

--From "Talk to God" by Stephen Dunn

It’s day nine of my cat-of-eleven-years Zooey’s disappearance, and I’m afraid I have become one of those slightly embarrassing, sad-washed people who no longer have the ability to fake it long enough to sustain proper social behavior. I awoke yet again uncharacteristically early this morning, after having an awful dream in which Zooey was carted off by a shady entity called “The Dark Carnival”. (I’m pretty sure that weird little quirk of the imagination was dredged up from a long-buried memory of having read Ray Bradbury’s “Dandelion Wine” when I was fourteen.) I managed to get (sort of) dressed and convince myself that I looked perfectly normal, then drove to the local office supply store to get neon-colored paper and thumbtacks for our postering campaign.

As I was tacking up posters on the telephone pole outside the senior living building by my apartment, an elderly man limped down the stairs, coffee in hand. “Are you the one who was wandering through here last night poking around with a flashlight?” he asked. I said that yes, indeed, I was. “I was wondering what you were looking for,” he said, peering at my LOST CAT poster. “Well, she is a fine-looking girl, isn’t she?” he added. I felt a completely unreasonable surge of pride. “Yes, she is,” I said, thinking, yes, she is a great-looking cat, and I picked her out, and she’s always been exceptionally beautiful as well as extremely clever." He assured me he would keep an eye out for her, then ambled back up the stairs to his apartment.

Every time we visit the city animal shelter to look for her, the volunteers there are extremely kind. They’ve been very forthcoming with lost-pet-finding tips, and they keep telling us not to give up. Last night, we had a very helpful consultation with Sharon, a detective from The Missing Pet Partnership, who was also very kind and understanding, and urged us to keep looking no matter what. And one of my colleagues from my days in healing work set me up with Heather Faris, an animal communicator from Canada who offered me a pro-bono phone session. I'm very grateful for everyone's empathy and kindness, and that no one so far has said, "It's just a cat, for Godsake; you can always get another one."

I’ve been trying to focus on writing poetry this weekend, but I’m too torn up. I realized that this is a weekend for reading poetry, not writing poetry. I’ve been making my way through Stephen Dunn’s volume, “What Goes On”, and I’ve found it to be enormously comforting and affirming. It’s exactly the kind of poetry that I want to be able to write—accessible, but full of depth, delicate but impactful, real, honest, and strangely comforting in its ruthlessness. One of the poems that has especially resonated with me is, “Talk to God”. (The link will take you to the text and audio.)

During the days when life is rolling along okay, I encourage you to start amassing a few books of poetry that will provide you solace during the hard times. Mary Oliver is a great one to start with, as are Raymond Carver, Rita Dove, Anne Sexton, and Erin Belieu. But look on your own, too. You might come across someone I’ve never heard of, and if you do, please share it with me. And, in the comments section, please share with me which poets (or lyricists) you turn to for comfort in times of grieving and hardship. Let's help each other get a collection going to arm us in the rough times--and to deepen our souls when better times return.

--Kristen McHenry