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Today I just feel like it again and reading poetry is on the agenda for the day. I'm thinking about whether it wouldn't be a good opportunity to recite a few short poems as a reading mentor.
At the same time, a poem from my own youth comes to mind, which in general Samuel Taylor Coleridge ascribed to it without, at least as far as I know, having provided any evidence for it.
Nevertheless, it is a very beautiful and also timeless poem.
What if you slept?
What if you slept?
And what if, in your sleep, you dreamed?
And what if, in your dream, you went to heaven
and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower?
And what if, when you awoke,
you had the flower in your hand?
Ah, what then?
"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."
Robin Williams as John Keating in Dead Poets Society (1989)
