Poet Jane Hirshfield said "... the feeling I have about poem-writing (is) that it is always an exploration, of discovering something I didn't already know. Who I am shifts from moment to moment, year to year. What I can perceive does as well. A new poem peers into mystery, into whatever lies just beyond the edge of knowable ground."
I bring a different poem to the writing classes each week, not only to inspire but to introduce new poets to the group members.
New Year Poem by May Sarton
Let us step outside for a moment As the sun breaks through clouds And shines on wet new fallen snow, And breathe the new air. So much has died that had to die this year. We are dying away from things. It is a necessity—we have to do it Or we shall be buried under the magazines, The too many clothes, the too much food. We have dragged it all around Like dung beetles Who drag piles of dung Behind them on which to feed, In which to lay their eggs. Let us step outside for a moment Among ocean, clouds, a white field, Islands floating in the distance. They have always been there. But we have not been there. We are going to drive slowly And see the small poor farms, The lovely shapes of leafless trees Their shadows blue on the snow. We are going to learn the sharp edge Of perception after a day’s fast. There is nothing to fear. About this revolution… Though it will change our minds. Aggression, violence, machismo Are fading from us Like old photographs Faintly ridiculous (Did a man actually step like a goose To instill fear? Does a boy have to kill To become a man?) Already there are signs. Young people plant gardens. Fathers change their babies’ diapers And are learning to cook. Let us step outside for a moment. It is all there Only we have been slow to arrive At a way of seeing it. Unless the gentle inherit the earth There will be no earth. ~ from Collected Poems (Norton, 1993)