Hyacinths and Biscuits

Carl Sandburg said, "Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits."

Poetry allows us to see our world and those who inhabit it in unique ways. It allows us to make connections beyond rational thought. A poet can hear the color red as it marches angrily across the sky in early morning and choose words that allow the reader to hear pounding footsteps for himself. The slight sniffles, hiccuping sobs, and keening sounds of crying transform in a poet's mind into blue. The palest blue of a baby's skin kissed by a chill wind. Deep indigo blue of fingers too long in the cold, without the warmth of touch.

What does a lie taste like? A poet knows it is biting into a lemon and your lips pucker, facial muscles tense, and the cheeks draw inward. A poet sees thunder, hears the silent touch of a hand sliding through hair, smells burning embers when dry lightning crackles overhead, and tastes the salt of the sea when looking at a picture of sailing ships. He reaches for soothing words to quench the thirst that arises in the reader.

Walt Whitman said, "And your very flesh shall be a great poem."

A poet knows he or she is the poem. Words spring from an endless well in the soul, pouring thoughts, emotions, lives, and even flesh onto the paper.

"Poetry is what gets lost in translation." Robert Frost knew that when we try to convert what we see, feel, hear, taste, into a solid explanation, much of the beauty and magic is lost. The world is stunning and mysterious when seen through the eyes of a poet, even if a word is never written.