Do poets believe in miracles? Or do they think 75 percent of Americans are idiots?
— John C., Little Rock, Arkansas As censorship and taboo become less and less threatening in literature, we are perhaps closer than ever to a poet’s spiritual thoughts. Certainly the poets who write of miracles today are not doing so under the Church’s demand, so the next time you are in need of spiritual advice, I would simply Google “miracles and poems” and start reading. But like Emily Dickinson, poets dwell in possibility, including the possibility of miracles, and I think many poets would agree that life itself is a miracle. James Schuyler, who suffered his adult life with bipolar disorder, writes “Hymn to Life,” in which he praises life for being just that, even with its accidents, doctor’s visits, depression, and shadows: “Life is hard. Some are strong, some are weak, most/ Untested. These useless truths blow about the yard the day after/ Rain the soft sunlight making softer shadows on the faded lawn.” Life is meaningful because it is life, even in its meaninglessness, as elsewh
