{"id":122040,"date":"2018-03-01T11:00:19","date_gmt":"2018-03-01T16:00:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=122040"},"modified":"2018-03-01T12:00:18","modified_gmt":"2018-03-01T17:00:18","slug":"poetry-rx-snowy-forests-urgent-hearts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2018\/03\/01\/poetry-rx-snowy-forests-urgent-hearts\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry Rx: Snowy Forests and Urgent Hearts"},"content":{"rendered":"

In our new column Poetry Rx, readers write in<\/a> with a specific emotion (like\u00a0\u201cwhen you love someone so much you want to rip them apart and live inside them\u201d) and our resident poets\u2014Sarah Kay, Kaveh Akbar, and Claire Schwartz\u2014take turns prescribing the perfect poems to match. This week, Sarah Kay inaugurates the series.\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A quick note on Poetry Rx:<\/p>\n

This is not meant to be an advice column in the traditional sense, in that we are wholly unqualified to offer you any solutions for the dilemmas in your life. Something Sarah says a lot is, \u201cNo, I don\u2019t think that poetry will save us. And yet, and yet \u2026 \u201d The \u201cand yet\u201d is what this column is for. And yet, maybe we can find poems that vibrate at the same frequency that your heart is humming. And yet, maybe we can find a poem you can escape inside of for a few minutes. And yet, maybe you just needed an excuse to share the vulnerable parts of yourself, and what better way to honor that courage than to offer you the poems that carry us through our own vulnerable times. \u2014Sarah Kay, Kaveh Akbar, and Claire Schwartz<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dear Poets,<\/em><\/p>\n

I live in Vancouver, where snow is fleeting. Two days ago, I was standing in the woods as snow fell through the limbs of the large Douglas firs. I stood there transfixed as the snow absorbed all the regular echoes of the forest, leaving only the sound of the creaking trees and my breath. I need a poem that captures that moment in the forest, when you\u2019re alone in the middle of nature, snow softly falling, feeling one with everything but knowing your happiness or sadness means very little in the context of everything. And it\u2019s a good feeling.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Love,
\n<\/em>Snowy in Vancouver<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dear Snowy in Vancouver,<\/p>\n

I liked this note so much I read it out loud to my mother, who immediately responded with the word \u201cmono no aware.\u201d I had to look it up, but it is a Japanese word that means \u201can empathy toward all things.\u201d Composed of mono<\/em> (\u7269) (\u201cthing\u201d) and aware <\/em>(\u54c0\u308c) (\u201can ancient expression of surprise, like \u2018ah\u2019 or \u2018oh\u2019 \u201d), it is also, more specifically, an awareness of the impermanence of all things, and a gentle, wistful sadness at their passing. I love the idea of a gentle sadness, as opposed to a violent sadness. I love that you found yourself feeling small and a little bit meaningless in the face of all that nature and beauty, and that it was not a cause for despair but a cause for wonder and a cause for mono no aware<\/em>. The poem that I would like to recommend to you today is not about snow, but it is about standing with your face to the immense natural world and being full of gratitude for what is before you, even while you make room for the gentle sadness that knows it will not last. Ross Gay\u2019s book Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude<\/a><\/em>\u00a0is full of mono no aware<\/em>\u00a0(and I wholeheartedly recommend it in its entirety), but the titular poem in particular is such a breathtaking gift that I often reread it as though it is a meditation or a psalm. I love that he addresses the reader as \u201cFriend.\u201d\u00a0If you have the time, I recommend listening to him read it in his own voice<\/a>. Listen as he tells us,<\/p>\n

there is a fig tree taller than you in Indiana,
\nit will make you gasp.
\nIt might make you want to stay alive even, thank you;<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Like Ross, I too \u201cwant so badly to rub the sponge of gratitude over every last thing, including you.\u201d Yes, snowy friend. Including you.<\/p>\n

\u2014SK<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Dear Poets,<\/em><\/p>\n

My partner, whom I love dearly, is finding it difficult to deal with the onslaught of terrible, awful, unbelievable news reports daily. I\u2019m finding all of it awful as well, but the more I read informed voices, the better I feel. The more she learns, the worse she feels. She\u2019s in academia, and having a breadth of understanding our country\u2019s cultural and political problems adds to her frustration. Is there a poem out there that will lift her up in this time of feeling hopeless that things will ever truly change?<\/em><\/p>\n

Signed,<\/em>
\nCaring Partner<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Oh, Caring Partner,<\/p>\n

How I feel for you, as a person who cares for your person, and who wants to promise her change, or at the very least wants to crumble off a corner of your own hope and offer it to her. And how I feel for her! It is exhausting to face all the loud ugliness of the unrelenting news. Personally, I vacillate between being some version of each of you: one day stoking the small fire of my optimism, hoping to light it brightly enough to warm my downtrodden loved ones, the next day waking up without even a memory of light. Here is what I can offer you. After the 2016 election, I could not find any poems inside myself. I hoped to find someone else\u2019s poem, so that I could cling to it like a buoy. But everyone else was just as miserable as I was. Thankfully, Safia Elhillo was the lighthouse I needed. Her poem \u201cSelf-Portrait with No Flag<\/a>\u201d reclaims the language of the Pledge of Allegiance and forms a kind of patriotism I believe in. She pledges allegiance to her \u201chomies\u201d and to her mother\u2019s \u201csmall & cool palms,\u201d just as you have pledged allegiance to your partner\u2019s tired heart. I do a lot of work in high schools, and one of my favorite workshops is to bring them this poem and ask them to draw a map of Safia Elhillo\u2019s poem. What are the landmarks? (\u201cThe table at the Waffle House.\u201d) What is the language spoken there? (\u201cI pledge allegiance to the group text.\u201d) Then I ask them to map the place they pledge allegiance to. If it is not the one they live in, then what is it? Who do they pledge allegiance to? And what are their languages? Their landmarks? Young people are so much better at imagining what is possible than we grown-ups, who have been soaking in what has been<\/em> for so long. So read Safia\u2019s \u201cSelf-Portrait\u201d while holding your partner\u2019s hand, as a reminder that you have already pledged allegiance to the parts of this place that matter, and that the parts that do not, can be, and must be, left behind.<\/p>\n

\u2014SK<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Dear Poets,<\/em><\/p>\n

Lately I have been excessively conscious of my heart. I can feel it beating, urgently. A doctor tells me my heart is fine, and I know from checking my heart rate periodically that it\u2019s not racing. I think it\u2019s like this: my heart is knocking on the door of my chest, and it wants to tell me something. The problem is, I don\u2019t know what it\u2019s trying to say. My marriage is fine, my kids are growing up fine, my job is fine, I am blessed with good health and love and shelter.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>A friend tells me that my star chart indicates I am in a time of great transition. I recently grew a beard and got a big tattoo on<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>my<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>arm\u2014<\/em>superficial signs, but they help me locate the sense of change.<\/em> But I still feel kind of lost. If the universe is sending me a signal, I can\u2019t hear it yet. Is there a poem to help me?<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Thank you,
\n<\/em>Urgent Heart<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dear Urgent Heart,<\/p>\n

Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what message your heart is trying to tell you. I don\u2019t think anyone can. But I can tell you that I am very proud of you for listening. Too many of us hear that urgent knocking and put our fingers in our ears. The poem I want to share with you today is by Rachel McKibbens. The first part, \u201cLetter from My Heart to My Brain<\/a>,\u201d begins,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Its okay to hang upside-down like a bat,
\nto swim into the deep end of silence,
\nto swallow every key so you can\u2019t get out.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

And the second part, \u201cLetter From My Brain\u00a0to My Heart<\/a>,\u201d includes,<\/p>\n

I have no one to blame
\n. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0.
\njust this long-legged sorrow
\nwho trails my every joy like a dark perfume.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

She listened to what her heart was trying to say, wrote it down, and then wrote back. Do not mistake her heart\u2019s letter for yours. Your heart has its own story to tell. But I hope that the anaphora of \u201cit\u2019s okay\u201d that thumps along the backbone of this poem will echo over to you, so that whatever message your heart is whispering, you will know that it\u2019s okay to feel that way. And perhaps you will write it down. And once you have figured out the message, perhaps you will write back.<\/p>\n

As an added bonus, listen to the poet share her own poem<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\u2014SK<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Need a poem for that emotion? Write in to advice@theparisreview.org<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n

Sarah Kay<\/a> is a poet and educator from NYC. She is codirector and\u00a0founder of Project VOICE<\/a>\u00a0and the\u00a0author of four books of poetry, including <\/em>B,<\/em> No Matter the Wreckage,<\/em> The Type, and <\/em>All Our Wild Wonder.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In our new column Poetry Rx, readers write in with a specific emotion (like\u00a0\u201cwhen you love someone so much you want to rip them apart and live inside them\u201d) and our resident poets\u2014Sarah Kay, Kaveh Akbar, and Claire Schwartz\u2014take turns prescribing the perfect poems to match. This week, Sarah Kay inaugurates the series.\u00a0     […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1411,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[33114],"tags":[33119,33116,33115,30306,33118,33117],"class_list":["post-122040","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry-rx","tag-catalog-of-unabashed-gratitude","tag-letter-from-my-heart-to-my-brain","tag-rachel-mckibbens","tag-ross-gay","tag-safia-elhillo","tag-self-portrait-with-no-flag"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nPoetry Rx: Snowy Forests and Urgent Hearts<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"In our new advice column, readers write in with a specific emotion and our resident poets take turns prescribing the perfect poems to match.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link 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