I am sitting in a Brit Lit class. It’s too cold. There is a Stevie Smith poem on the board. “Sunt Leones.” There is a highly capable professor in the front of the room and some really smart people populate the room.
I can’t figure out what the conversation has to do with the poem. Instead, the conversation revolves around the history of religion. I suppose that is loosely related, but not really.
But what it is, is a great conversation concerning interesting tidbits that I know and I don’t know. I see how diving into this work sparks many streams of different conversation and amazing wonders.
I am slowly developing an appreciation of poetry that I haven’t had before. It is due to these interactions. I am beginning to see poetry as another mystical door through which wonders walkthrough.
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