Everything and nothing #29

Poetry isn’t propaganda,

nor is a poem an act of will.

Though it may help us understand a

poet, it stays a mystery still.

We’re caught, as Wittgenstein reminds us,

in the net of language. Language finds us

chirruping at our mother’s knee,

captures us in the nursery.

Everyone’s called, but few are chosen

to wrestle, from our common speech,

the brightness of the word, to reach

the life that lies beyond our frozen

habits of thought, to show with love

much that can not be spoken of.

 

Gwen Harwood

Done