Poet: A person who possesses the extraordinary powers of imagination and expression.
The Poet is the only one among us who can define the human struggle with any accuracy. A politician and statistician can speak on the masses who go hungry. A physician and psychologist can describe the processes that befall the victims of starvation. The Poet, however, is the only one who can connect with the pain of a churning stomach as its emptiness eats a hole in the pit of your abdomen.
To live is to suffer, and to suffer is to make us human.
Through time, we have been aware of what makes us separate from the rest of the animal kingdom—a mind like no other. We have tried countless ways to put words to this natural disposition. Religion, philosophy, and science have all taken an attempt at this explanation to some avail. It is poetry, however, that can explain it all. The report of The Poet makes an example of what we already know, while everything else lags at a distance.
The Poet has explained it all. The mind that can comprehend complexities and wonders, that can both lighten the brightest days and deepen the darkest nights. To think is to make us human. We often fail to see the interconnection of thinking and suffering, though it is no different than that of knowledge and wisdom.
The Poet is the man who understands this stringing phenomenon. Though I declare the name of this man to be "The Poet," he is not an individual but is a single part of the human experience that flows through the masses. But is only harnessed by the few. He heals the wounded, warms the cold, materializes the beauty, and feels the pain. Some say this explanation is that of God. If, in fact, it is, we already live with him in the Kingdom of Heaven.
This declaration is not to elevate The Poet to the level of godliness. It is a declaration that says we have the power of God at our fingertips. We can bring back the dead, create worlds, destroy the grandest armies of men, and harness a universe in the binds of a book.
The Poet can take his human existence and turn it into a story of whichever he pleases. His work is his torment, but also his release. He hasn't a choice but to create and bring the unspoken stories of the heart to life. If it is believed that we are all of one existence, then maybe the stories of the heart are of the ones that have been forgotten in space in time.
I name this man The Poet for one reason, and to find it, we must look in the definition of this being. "A person who possesses special powers of imagination and expression." A Poet is not necessarily always someone who writes poetry, just as someone who writes poetry is not always a Poet.
Expressing the human struggle can be done in many ways: painting, photography, poetic rhyme, pages or prose, symphonies, and word of mouth. It is done in so many ways.
To be a Poet, one must be open to learning from the most excellent teacher of this struggle: life. It takes observation and understanding of even the briefest subtleties to truly convey pain and happiness in any form of expression.
The Poet is life's student to understand the universal truth in this world. It is with this understanding that this man can harness the strength for this power of imagination and expression.
Magic is forbidden fruit in the modern world. It's nothing but tricks and misdirection by a man with swift hands. We refute that there is any pure magic in this world. We deny it so consistently that we fail to see that it explains something so ordinary. The Poet alleviates the pain through the expression of life's experience. Is that not a spell?
And with that, I leave you a single question: Are you a writer... or are you a poet?