Yes, it’s been a week of doctor appointments, phone calls from doctors, and sometimes uncomfortable tests that doctors have ordered, but I’m back to thinking about poetry – and back to the blog (no, I haven’t figured out how to migrate the blog yet, though time is ticking down on how much longer they’re going to support this blog…stay tuned for the new link.)
I was thinking about the things that get us through difficult times. The belief in something larger than oneself. Our spiritual yearnings/faiths, for example, our loved ones, and the things that just keep sticking to us, giving us hope when times are hard. The big bunch of daffodils that Glenn just brought home for me that are blooming brightly in their vase by the window. So hard to be depressed, looking at daffodils. And it doesn’t hurt that the weather report, after weeks and weeks of gloomy, blow-y cold and rain, is saying we’re going to have some sunshine and sixty-degree days coming up.
It’s really hard to write poems about hope without sounding cheesy, much as it’s difficult to write about love without sounding sentimental or sappy, isn’t it? (See this article for more on the difficulty of the happy love poem.) But they are neccessary. And I find my poetry tends to be on the hard, colder edges rather than the comforting side most of the time. After all, many of my favorite poets tend to be on that bitter edge – I prefer Gluck and Atwood to Oliver. I usually prefer humour to sweetness. What about you? Do you have any favorite “hopeful” poems?