The Purpose and Power of Poetry

I write both poetry and creative nonfiction, but whatever genre I'm working in, poetry has been–and always will be–a trusted companion in my creative life.

The Power and Purpose of Poetry

In my twenties, of all the possible things to do with my life, I decided to study literature and poetry in particular. Why? Literature wasn’t going to make my life easy or make me rich, but I believed in the nourishment of literature as something almost as important as food. And I still do. I chose to study poetry in particular because it offered other ways of being, of connecting.

Poetry helps us be more awake, more aware, more alive. It helps us be aware of where we are and also turn in the direction we want to go. Poetry travels with us, meets us where we are, leads us to the next steps. In my own life, poetry has been a constant companion. I have written poems in my very darkest and in my happiest moments. And so, here are, I think, some of the main purposes, benefits, delights and powers of poetry:

Attention

Unlike prose, poetry asks us to pay attention to language not just sentence by sentence or even word by word, but syllable by syllable, sound by sound. The very rhythms and the music of poetry demand that we listen, that we open our senses, and become aware of how we take meaning into our bodies. Similarly, poetry’s shorter lines and the pauses that are built into the line breaks slow us down. Poetry asks us not to jump ahead but to stay with the experience of reading. It invites presence.

This slowing down, this act of attention is, as the philosopher Simone Weil says, a sacred act: “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love…Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.”

When we train our mind to pay attention, as a poem helps us do, we naturally enter into a sacred relationship, what another philosopher, Martin Buber, calls the “I-Thou” relationship.

Connection

Attention naturally leads to connection. As we pay attention to language, for example, we see that language takes on meaning in connection to tradition, perception, experience.

A word means something different in relation to other words; rhythms are formed only in relation to other rhythms and sounds. Form and content cannot be separated in a poem. A poem means exactly what it says in the form it is written. It can be shorthand to talk about the "form" and the "content" of a piece of writing, but, in reality, form and content cannot be separated; form is content and content is form. This is similar to the mind-body dichotomy. It can be helpful to talk about mind and body as separate, but, in fact, science and our own perception teach us that mind and body are just words pointing to parts of our experience that, in fact, are inextricable from each other.

Similarly, the meaning of a poem comes from the relationships formed between the lived world, the words on the page, their relationship to each other, and the reader herself. The craft of reading and writing poetry is inextricable from the practice.

New Possibilities

And through the ways a poem teaches us to stay connected, new possibilities arise. The very close attention that a poem demands leads to greater and greater insight. The more we pay attention, the more respect and wonder we have. We are led, as Weil says, to prayer. Even if what we pay attention to is difficult, we see the connection between the particular and the numinous, the small and the large, what we can know and what we cannot.

As we pay attention to relationship, we come to pay attention as well to the openings between things, between words, that space of silence, that space of mystery and possibility. In a poem about poetry itself, Emily Dickinson wrote: “I dwell in Possibility –/ A fairer House than Prose – / More numerous of Windows – /Superior – for Doors –.” Poetry opens windows and doors to spaciousness. In that more open space, new possibilities arise.

Healing and Wisdom

This space of possibility is the space of creative energy itself, of that sacred spark. Poetry guides us to this space through the attention that it invites. In staying with a poem—on the poem’s own terms—we get out of the left brain and into the creative imaginative space of the right brain. This is also the space of dream, of the subconscious, of myth, of spirit. And that space is also the space where change happens.

Poetry is the space of our most primal cry—grief, trauma, physical pain all are part of this space and are often outside of language. Poetry is also the space of our greatest joy, our sexual desire, our love, and the space of the sacred itself, of mysticism and awe. Interestingly, our most heightened experiences take us outside of language. And paradoxically, the very close attention to language that poetry creates brings us into the non-verbal, the space between words, the wisdom of the non-verbal.

In my own life, my poems were a place to express my trauma story before I had a conscious understanding of it. They were a place to heal. In poems, we can encounter the sacred, connect with what matters, and reconnect with beauty, meaning, and joy.

“Tell the truth but tell it slant,” Emily Dickinson also famously wrote. Often the very slantness of a poem can get to the truth more accurately. All writing is a process of discovery, but especially poetry. The very form itself allows us to let go of our preconceived ways of saying or thinking about things and try new forms, new meanings.

200 years ago, in his Defense of Poetry, Shelley famously called poets the “unacknowledged legislators of the world.” This may sound grandiose, but it remains true that though poets may still largely be unacknowledged, through the act of poetry, we reconfigure our world; we create new worlds.

It can feel far-fetched to say that reading or writing a poem has anything to do with, let’s say, the climate crisis, but from my own experience as an activist and talking to my friends who do full-time activism, what we need is not new technology, but a cultural shift, new ways of seeing and perceiving, the very things that poetry helps us do.

When we get inside the space of a poem, when we get inside the creative act, inside our own creative energy, amazing new possibilities open. We see, and more importantly experience, the transformative power of poetry.

What about you? What have your experiences with poetry been like? And do you have questions about the poetic process? Let me know by leaving a comment below.

On Poetry: Two Podcast Conversations

I was recently honored to talk about the power of poetry and my own poetic process on two wonderful podcasts. I hope you enjoy the conversations. 

Everyday Buddhism: Poetry Writing as Spiritual Practice with Nadia Colburn

In my conversation with Everyday Buddhism host Wendy Shinyo Haylett, I read poems from I Say the Sky and discuss poetry writing as a spiritual practice, the relationship between Buddhist/meditation practice and writing, poetry as a companion, literature as a place where we can speak our uncomfortable truths, writing as healing, and much more! Listen here.

EcoCast: Finding the "Symphony Inside You" with Nadia Colburn

In my conversation with EcoCast hosts Lindsay Jolivette and Alex Tischer, I read poems from I Say the Sky and discuss the impact of nature poetry on my work as a writer and environmental activist, multi-hyphenate thinking and building bridges between literature, creativity, science, mindfulness, and activism, and the continual search for the "symphony inside you." Listen here.

ENJOY A COURSE? 

The Poetry of Attention Online Class (mostly asynchronous) with lifetime access to teachings. Fall in love with poetry as a contemplative practice, read, write and live with greater attention, and write your best work.  See more and enroll here.