Tigers
What are we now but voices
who promise each other a life
neither one can deliver
not for lack of wanting
but wanting won’t make it so
We cling to a vine
at the cliff’s edge.
There are tigers above
and below. Let us love
one another and let go.
This has long been my favorite poem, and it’s been running through my mind even more than usual lately. I used to think I didn’t like poetry, and then I came across this piece in the New Yorker in 2005, and it made me stop and catch my breath. And changed the way I felt about poetry forever, which in turn changed my life. That, my friends, is the point of good art.
