Another poem from the anthology that I mentioned on Sunday, by Stephen Dunn.
Happiness.
A state you must dare not enter
with hopes of staying,
quicksand in the marshes, and all
the roads leading to a castle
that doesn't exist.
But there it is, as promised,
with its perfect bridge above
the crocodiles,
and its doors forever open.
I love the idea that it's the hope for happiness, and seeing it ahead of you, that is somehow happiness itself. It isn't a constant thing, but it's always there, ready to be inhabited. How lovely!
Here is quote that I found today, from Ted Hughes: "Poetry is the voice of spirit and imagination and all that is potential, as well as of the healing benevolence that used to be the privilege of the gods."
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