***

The table was set with our favorite teapot and mismatched teacups with saucers picked up in our latest thrifting adventure. Poetry books were scattered around the table, waiting to be opened and a favorite poem read. I called my children to the table for our first “Poetry Tea” and they ran through the house as though it were the best day of the year.

After pouring tea in everyone’s cup, and passing around the cookies I grabbed at the store the night before, I invited them to pick up a book and choose a poem to read out loud. To break the ice, I went first, reading a poem that they had learned to recite a year ago—one we all knew and loved:

There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human Soul –

— Emily Dickinson

Once I had gone first, they were eager to read the poems they had selected, and we spent an hour and a half reading poetry to each other on that rainy afternoon.

I hadn’t read poetry in years. My high school English teacher’s question of “But what does it mean?” still rings loud in my ears, but this time with my children made me start to see that poetry is not about meaning; poetry is about emotion. Prioritizing poetry for my children has become my own gateway to loving poetry. The more poetry I read to them, the more I want to read poetry for myself.

I started a poetry journal a few weeks ago and am learning to write my own poetry. There’s something so freeing about being able to write all my emotions without worrying about whether or not it’s appropriate. Poetry is the heartbeat of humanity, I’d like to think.
 

Read Emily Dickinson Poems
Read French and Spanish Tea (a “tea journey” with daughters)

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