Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry. They have a life to live. We’re not that concerned with T.S. Eliot’s poems or Ada Limon‘s poems or anyone’s poems.
Until your father dies. Or someone you went to school with has a heart attack. Or you lose a child. Or you have a mental health crisis. Or someone breaks your heart. And then, all the sudden, we become desperate to make sense of this life.
Has anyone ever felt this way before? How has anyone survived this?
Or something great happens. We meet somebody and our whole world changes! We have a rapturous experience! We discover that we love someone so much that we can’t see straight!
Has anyone ever felt this way before? What is happening to me? Is this real?
This is when poetry is not a luxury, but sustenance. These are the moments when poetry and art speak to us. This is when we need beauty
Pursuing Veritas 
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