Poetry connects us.
Poetry invites a connection and opens us to relationship. Somewhere inside the core of our being, our little artist operates the creative command center, pulling the levers, punching the switches, checking the data, and tugging our heartstrings. This poetic-heart delights in the authentic, bears our past experiences, yearns for truth, and pulses with future dreams. Though always present, the poetic-heart often articulates when everything else is silent and still.
Just as, by the shake of a hand, we can read and discern the impressions of another human being, so by the page, the ink, the rhythm and the rhyme, the author’s poetic-heart encounters ours. The best poems whisper: “Come on in, friend, let us listen together.”
The capacity for our poetic-heart to encounter another is integral to human flourishing. Without significant touch an infant will die; the aging soul never forgets this need. A million defenses, excuses, distractions, or hesitations might bar the way, but this inner mechanism toward relationship aches to create, to connect, to grow. But how?
Poetry can help express, even touch, some of those emotions, moments, and memories that overshadow our souls. Whether we’re neglected, wounded, or just numb, spending time near the poetic-heart of another, like a fire, illumines the familiar face of our souls, nourishing that place of encounter, strengthening our personal, poetic-heart.
You know everything I’m going to say before I start the first sentence. I look behind me and you’re there, then up ahead and you’re there, too—your reassuring presence, coming and going…
Is there any place I can go to avoid your Spirit? You’d find me in a minute—you’re already there waiting… “Oh, he even sees me in the dark! At night I’m immersed in the light!” It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you; night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.
Psalm 139. 4-7, 11-12
Moments spent in these encounters can run too deep for words, and, at times, may unearth the Author of life—the Creator withHis created. When this relationship mingles with language, then prayer and poetry can unify into a single act of worship. As our attention turns to God’s presence, our priorities shift, our perspective is shaped, our desires open, and our poetic-heart is made manifest. In literature this practice composes a somewhat neglected genre called devotional poetry. Poets like George Herbert, Gerard Manly Hopkins, Alfred Lord Tennyson, John Donne are lauded for craft though less recognized for their faith; while their works overflow with intimate expressions and profound experiences of living with the living God.
The Bible, too, is full of this sort of poetry. King David penned hundreds of poems in various seasons—each one a natural outflow of his relationship with God. The old testament prophets cried out in poetic-language, beautiful expressions of the human being worshipping its Creator. Jesus, the Son of God who we worship, memorized, discussed, and preached with Hebrew poetry. Because of Jesus, believers are called God’s poema.[1] He animated kingdom realities with piercing spiritual metaphors. His Life brought new life, true life, to those ancient words.
Devotional poetry is an invitation for all of us to enter further into life with God. Getting honest. Getting vulnerable. Leaning in. Asking, in a moment of prayer, who is God to me right now? What is He doing in the midst of my heart? Dialoging those thoughts onto the surface, the skin, the lips. Letting the Word of God interact with our honesty.
So, let each of us return to our poetic-heart, our wordless place. It’s not really about language at all, though language will assist us. It’s a return to the heart of the passionate prophets, the Spirit of the song-writing king, the Object of the adoring priests, the questions of baffled Pharisees, the adoration of freshly pardoned prostitutes, and the open heart of the aching Author and prolific Perfecter of our faith. This is the place where authentic vulnerability nestles into ultimate Truth, an intimate connection of heaven and earth.
[1] Ephesians 2.10 – “For we are God’s masterpiece.” In Ancient Greek, masterpiece is poiēma, or poem, a created work from the Author of life.