Regarding Alexandra Petri's Jan. 30 column, "What's the point of poetry today?":
Is poetry still relevant today? To those of us who still love to paint with words, it is.
Why poetry? I say, why not? It's a refreshing alternative to mundane prose. What would the world be like without it? A desolate landscape devoid of beauty.
Making a case for poetry is like dropping a rose petal in the Grand Canyon and waiting for an echo. There's no money in poetry. But there's no poetry in money either.
But then, who can place a tangible currency on a product that is of the spirit?
Poetry is not for everyone. But it is not dead. It is as relevant today as in the past and always will be. Poetry is an art form. The poet gathers materials, rearranges the words, crafts them and polishes them into a beautiful masterpiece. Vague but pregnant with meaning, poetry is a voice that transcends cultural barriers. Friend and foe speak the common language - the language of the soul, promoting brotherhood and peace.
Poetry is everywhere. Its rhythm can be felt and heard when the hammer of evolution beats out new shapes on the anvil of the world. When a flock of birds in flight dance in synchronized motion across the blue prairie, that's poetry. Or when monarch butterflies rise and fall on tree branches in the forest. In the poet's eyes, suddenly the trees bloom, showing off orange calices, a momentary Eden in the green monochrome.
Even at dusk, when twilight extinguishes the last fires of day, in solitude, the poet hears the night's long sigh. Poetry evokes emotion. The poet hears, feels and sees beyond the ordinary. Some call it airy imagination. I call it poetry. Poetry is the music of the spheres. If only you had ears.
EVA T. KOHR