Song of Creation

C.S. Lewis once defined poetry as “writing which arouses and in part satisfies the imagination.” In a way, then, we are all poets of sorts! We all have an imagination; we create with our thoughts. Sometimes day-to-day routine observations cause us to imagine great things. Have you ever had a dream that was accompanied by a piece of music you knew well? The music somehow combined with the dream (which itself came from your experience) to make a dream memory not soon forgotten! Have you ever seen something simple around you that gave strange rise to a sense of vastness or joy or heightened sensibility? This often happened to Lewis, especially in his youth. Such things occur frequently and even become the themes of great poetry, music, books or other art forms. Take Wordsworth’s Lines Written in Early Spring, where contemplation in a grove of trees moved his thoughts to a comparison of the seeming innocent beauty of the creation and the sometimes cruel and fickle ways of humankind: “To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.” The creation of art is often the artist’s response to observation and sense experience. It is then offered to an audience for their response. If you possess any artistic bent at all you most likely want someone to view, read or listen to the results of your work. This desire drives you to create, to express. The artist would rather have you say you did not like his/her work than to say you have never looked at or considered it! The poems in this book are, if anything, accessible. They are not difficult to read or understand. But sometimes, lurking just below the surface, you may find something to surprise you. Something that perhaps states an old truth in a new way or reminds you of your own experience. Here is one, from Chapter 9: Kudzu The creeping vine, it goes, it grows and slows The erstwhile growth of other living things. As under sheets fine furniture undiscerned, That foreign force, unwelcome visitor Misshapes the beauteous forms of things. It blunts sharp edges and removes clear gaps And generalizes stark particulars; Arrogant blanket blocks the sun and saps The life of plants and bushes, rustic fences, Or like a market slogan masking, draping Production defects or morale malaise. Like kudzu o’er Georgia, you cover me; Why must you smother, blithely mother me, Think you must deign to hover over me? What is it about a common southeastern weed-vine that reminds the poet of a negative human relationship? Something in his imagination or experience made the connection. Here is an excerpt from Chapter 2: Reflection of youth in a grandfather’s eye, Moon chasing Orion across the night sky, Classical notes from a High School band, Impulse of joy, touch of a hand, Hope amidst crisis, peace mixed with pain, Tearful reunion of loved ones again. Snapshots of beauty on heavenly wings, Sent by the Maker of beautiful things… Your imagination is a wonderful gift. Coupled with the “music of life,” it creates an artistic expression that others will affirm as worthy of their attention and consideration. Hence the title of the book, Song of Creation. Go ahead, create something! .