This morning I came upon a quote from one of my very favorite poems. Despite the fact that I was an English major in college and grad school, I've never been a poetry reader. Yet again and again, I've run into two or three poems by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and that makes me realize that there can be magic in poetry.
Here's Pied Beauty:
|GLORY be to God for dappled things—|
|For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;|
|For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;|
|Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;|
|Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;||5|
|And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.|
|All things counter, original, spare, strange;|
|Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)|
|With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;|
|He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:||10|
| Praise him.|
--Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918
Maybe the rest of the time I've just been reading the wrong poets.