Poetry is beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, it awakens beauty inside the darkest pieces of your heart. It’s an experience you just can’t have enough of. It’s a dream you wish you could get lost in again almost as soon as it seems to get over.
Poetry is the closest mankind has come to realise the beauty, to see it and feel it. Poetry is the closest mankind will come to create beauty.
Poetry takes me closer to myself. Writing poetry leaves me right in the middle of chaos, it throws me face-first into the ocean that I am only to make me realise how little I know about who I am, what I am.
It’s difficult to understand poetry, even more difficult to decipher a poet. It’s treason to open yourself to the world, be as vulnerable as a human can possibly be through the verses of your poetry, and yet be disappointed and relieved to an extent to see so little do people read between the lines, so little do people see the truth when it stares at them right in the face.
Show me one poet who didn’t lay bare his darkest deepest secrets in the metaphors of his verses and you’ll see how much this art truly demands. Your heart wrenching at the sight of a boy of 13, working to make a living and resolving to make a better man of himself, the light in his eyes, his resolve to fight this circle of poverty and fight fate itself, that’s poetry.
The sunlight caressing your feet, reminding you that today is the day, the stars twinkling in turn to say how unpredictable life is, and how easily everything can come to an end just how it all started with the Big Bang, that gave birth to life as we know it now, that made the stars, and moon and the sun and you family – you’re all made of the same stardust after all.
Poetry is duetting with your mom, playing the guitar as she synchronizes Garhwali songs to the rhythm of a lyrics you both struggle to match. Realizing how generation by generation we’re walking so further away from our roots, and together embracing this song as we return to where we came from.
Poetry is choosing to love after falling on shards of glasses with a heartbreak. It’s seeing your love smiles as his eye catches the sun and shines just a shade brown and you swear that’s the most beautiful colour you’ve ever known and screw dark chocolate, this is the colour every sweet good thing in the world should be.
That is poetry, and that’s the closest I’ve come to see beauty.