We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
“I’m majoring in math, but I don’t know what to do with that. I just know that I don’t want to have one job my entire life. I want to be able to move around—and I don’t want to live in America.” “Why not?” “I don’t like a lot of what’s happening here and what the country does. I don’t agree with American ideas, policies, and laws. I don’t really agree with anything America does: I think it makes terrible decisions, and I don’t want to support that by living here.”
People are just as wonderful as sunsets if you let them be. When I look at a sunset, I don’t find myself saying, “Soften the orange a bit on the right hand corner.” I don’t try to control a sunset. I watch with awe as it unfolds.