If you’ve hung around here for more than a minute, you know I’m a hope-writer at heart.
The following piece may feel discordant on the first read, but that is on purpose—it is designed to elicit reflection by allowing the reader to experience discomfort.
Poetry lovers will recognize this straightaway, but perhaps those who are generally drawn to direct prose will appreciate this peek behind the scenes.
Have you ever wondered what makes a poem a poem? (Hint: it’s not all about the rhyme)
Here is my personal, non-academic primer: Poetry is a literary genre that utilizes sound, structure, and deliberate word choice to offer multi-dimensional meaning and evoke feeling.
Poetic devices include meter, assonance, rhythm, and alliteration—as well as the way line-breaks are employed to emphasize a particular point.1 And yes, sometimes they even rhyme.
Poetry is meant to be mulled over, not rushed through—contemplated, not merely consumed.
Often, the author is attempting to deliver maximum impact using only a handful of words, making the form an exercise in thrift.
Reading a poem slowly, (and more than once) while pondering the nuance of word choice and cadence, will always make for a richer, more robust reading experience. So without further ado, here is my offering for the week.
Note: The poetry above is the second piece of writing inspired by this exercise. The first one lives here, and is entirely different in both form and feel.
This is not an exhaustive list by any means! Repetition, irony, (which was utilized in my poem today!), symbolism, metaphor, onomatopoeia, personification, etc. are all tools worth exploring when it comes to reading and writing poetry.
Oh, that's lovely, Cathy! Such beautiful descriptors and wise insight. I too have noticed the stillness of dawn isn't really all that still! And yet in spite of bird chatter, cricket chirp, squirrel kuks and quaas--even the low hum of commuter traffic a few blocks away--there's a stillness in the air, in the inky shadows of the creek bed, and the golden light setting treetops aglow. With you, Cathy, I want to appreciate the peace of stillness that God gives us, especially at dawn and even in the midst of much activity.
Thanks.
It did enlighten.
A lone star welcoming the rosy sunrise glimpsed here.