A LOVE OF LIFE POEM

I believe that the most interesting way to face a love life poem isn’t to write a list of nice verses or to read them. I think the best way to engage with such a task requires to feel the sensations that it may depict. In other words, to experience it.

But what should we do to feel the experience of being involved in feeling this love of live poem?

There will be thousands of answers to this question, however, according to my circumstances, I would suggest making a poem, with the required sensibility, by collecting «things» that have inspired some of you and me feeling special beauty or satisfaction in the past, and can do it again.

I know that most people would complain by stating that not everybody perceives in the same way emotions, even more, you may add that no one had the same experience because we are all different from each other. Even worse, we are different to ourselves over time. Some will just point out that it is not going to be «a poem», but a simple compilation of elements that have nothing to do with what I originally wanted to promote. And they may be right and, at the same time, wrong.

The «LOVE OF LIFE POEM» I am talking about may contain verses from other poems, photographs, ideas, music, experiences, landscapes, intuitions, texts, videos, and millions of other elements that inspire loving life, feeling amazingly happy for the fact of being alive and experience emotions that move you to get in love with what you can learn, do, experience and so forth.

Let’s start with what could be called the first verse of this poem (can be used as an example of the elements I would like to compile for this activity): The Little Prince’ Dedication, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

FIRST VERS (Dedication to Leon Werth  by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. The Little Prince)

«To Leon Werth

I ask the indulgence of the children who may read this book for dedicating
it to a grown−up. I have a serious reason: he is the best friend I have in
the world. I have another reason: this grown−up understands everything,
even books about children. I have a third reason: he lives in France where
he is hungry and cold. He needs cheering up. If all these reasons are not
enough, I will dedicate the book to the child from whom this grown−up
grew. All grown−ups were once children−− although few of them
remember it. And so I correct my dedication:
To Leon Werth
when he was a little boy

 

It’s your turn. Add a verse in order to make up a love of life poem.