Sunset last night curtesy of: God Almighty.

I don’t get it, almost every student I’ve ever had says they hate writing. What’s not to like? I love the thin black ink spilling onto the page. You can create whole worlds with people that do whatever you tell them. You can spin planets on their axis, crush evil with good, make sunsets that inspire awe. And it all comes alive! Well, it seems alive in the moment, ’till the ink runs out. The best part is the blank page; the only limit is your mind and everything is possible: all the setting, all the character, all the plot, and suddenly there’s a hill and she paces as they talk. That’s where the magic happens, because even if you decide it’s cheesy, and no one would believe it–you swipe your pen across those lines, sit quiet a moment, and begin again on a blank line.

And I ask myself, what can poetry do? Poetry can bring vision to a dark world; it can open an idea up for scrutiny; it can bring a blizzard in the middle of summer; it can wrench emotion from the hardest heart; it can bring a laugh, confuse you, anger you, challenge you; it can make understandable that which confounds; it can bring the mightiest steed into being as you ride along with him into the stars!