Poetry holds big truths in small spaces.
In Ethiopia, poetry shapes how people speak, think, and remember. It deserves a better explanation than what I’ll give it here, but I’ll give a brief introduction. The most popular instrument for this is called the Sem ena Werq, proverbs which means “wax and gold”, describing gold beneath wax. People use it creatively to turn everyday moments, actions, and tools into wisdom. It used to drive me nuts when my parents would communicate in this way because I struggled to understand it. Half the time I understood the surface level words (the wax), but couldn’t find the gold. The other half of the time, it uses words and concepts I have no knowledge of since a lot of it is farmer based. And in very rare 1/10000th time when I understood it, I struggled to see why they found it joyful. It’s sort of like that phenomenon when you explain a joke it’s not funny anymore.
I asked my father to train me in these arts a couple of years ago and he’d send me sentences every other day with no context and I’d have to find it’s true meaning. I wouldn’t say I’ve mastered the art anywhere near someone who is proficient, but with his help I’ve learned to enjoy digging for the gold. It’s very cool how flexible it can make language. And it feels like watching geniuses when you witness people who are very talented in these arts. They’re smart enough to one day honor beauty with it, another day they can be clever and “guard” truths (much like the parables in scripture), they can say things gently without losing depth, and they can also mock people when they want to be mean.
I like to think the beauty and intelligence of poetry shows up in our everyday lifes as well, it keeps us awake and sane. Very few of us have the ability to capture that and put it into writing (at least I know I don’t). It shows up in the small constants of our busy lives and the random disruptions. Sunrise that feels like a new chance (thank God and his mercy). A quiet walk in the evening that clears your mind (lots to see just by looking). A reckless bird that is trying to cross the street on foot (just fly dawg). A garden blooming with the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen on the ugliest city block ever. A beautiful woman who catches your eye and leaves you speechless (perhaps an angel). A laugh shared with friends that uplifts your entire day (just hooting and hollering).
These moments come and go in many shapes and forms, but seeing the poetry in them slows em down long enough for us to see their meaning. Write some when you can. Read it when you can, for your own quiet understanding, reflection, or joy. I know I’ve come to enjoy reading it.