Here’s a little something out of the ordinary to whisk you off your feet and into the domain of creative imagination. All jokes put aside poetry evokes an instant beauty and harmony within me, especially when it is being channelled through one who has cultivated such talent. The wonder of poetry is that no matter where we are in life, whether sick in bed or riding the waves to an early death, the fire of poetry warps time back into that eternal moment of sorts, where everyday language becomes mundane and futile in comparison.
So what’s up with this cute middle aged man reciting poetry on top of Mount Scio? Surely the gravity of Saturn ought to have him out of sight bringing order and stability to the economy. Oh no! Not another Peter Pan to charm the young at heart to remain forever free from responsibility and reading poetry!
Just testing the water for now to determine if sharing my heart’s recitations should remain a regular thing or not. Trying on a new hat here so to speak and watching the mirror of karma for feedback. Not to get all personal on you but one of the challenges for me when it comes to sharing this form of art is that a part of me feels selfish or rather egotistic. And I may not be alone in this awkward belief. For instance just recently one of my non-cyberspace friends told me that reading poetry to others is like a dog licking his testicles, which is kind of repulsive don’t ya think. It’s not as though my dirty underwear is drying outside on a cloths line or something.
The poets quoted in the video from beginning to end: William Butler Yeats, Ernst Dowson and Robert Frost. Each of these poems have been impressed upon me through significant artists and teachers; kindred souls. In a sense a spark of their fiery passion leapt into me as they were reciting their imperfect version of a holy good; surely not everything has to be glittered with holly wood.