The magic of Poetry

Some time ago, after I had posted several poems on death an dying, an internet acquaintance
said that I 'seem(ed) to love the poetry of death'.

I explained that the wonderful thing about poetry was that it can take something tragic, ugly or even horrifying and move us ...touch our heart...and in so doing make something good and true -even beautiful.

It seems to me that's what Auden was conveying in the these lines from: "In Memory of W. B. Yeats."


"...Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice;
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress;
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise."