Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that responds, in some way, to another. This could be as simple as using a line or image from another poem as a jumping-off point, or it could be a more formal poetic response to the argument or ideas raised in another poem. You might use a favorite (or least favorite poem) as the source for your response. And if you’re having trouble finding a poem to respond to, here are a few that might help you generate ideas: “This World is Not Conclusion,” by Peter Gizzi, “In That Other Fantasy Where We Live Forever,” by Wanda Coleman, “La Chalupa, the Boat,” by Jean Valentine, or “Aubade: Some Peaches, After Storm,” by Carl Phillips.

I chose to answer the question in the poem ‘miracles‘ by Walt Whitman. I tried replying using the same format as the poet.

——————————————————————

Why, who makes much of a miracle?

Of this I know a thing or two

It’s they who

make nothing of breathing and believe it to be like the waxing

and waning of the moon. Something that needs no attending

to. It’s they who feel no pain on seeing lovers part

As waves that touch the shore, kiss and depart

It’s they who make nothing of the art

or the artist; neither the pallet, the strokes or the sheer size of the canvas moves their heart

Nor the knowledge of the journey of the waters to the sky

and back evokes a sense of wonder in their eye

It’s they who make nothing of the earth’s celestial dance

as she unceasing moves, unstopping, in a trance

They who see it merely as a reason

For the changes in season

And feel no awe at the attraction, the pull, how it must stem

despite millions and millions of miles between them

I know a thing or two

of the ones who, make much of miracles

It’s they who see it not in the churning of food in their gut

or are quick to condemn when stuck in a rut

It’s they who have eyes but

cannot see and whose minds are shut

Like you, I see miracles all around me too-

In the rising of bread, the spoiling of milk into curd

In the garden- every blooming flower, every pollinating bee

every bird, every worm and every fish in the sea

every man who made a difference to another

by a smile, a word, a gesture

Miracles do not happen out of the blue

I see them all around me too, in every little thing I do.

Copyright@smithavishwanathsblog.com. All Rights Reserved.