The poet lives and writes at the frontier between deep internal experience and the revelations of the outer world. There is no going back once this frontier has been reached; a new territory is visible and what has been said cannot be unsaid. Poetry is a break for freedom. In a sense, all poems are good; all poems are an emblem of courage and the attempt to say the unsayable; but only a few are able to speak to something universal yet personal and distinct at the same time; to create a door through which others can walk into what previously seemed unobtainable realms, in the passage of a few short lines.
I often think that prose is the art of explaining, while poetry is the very essence of the thing itself.
But prose can come within a hairsbreadth of poetry in a good novel or in a scientific or psychological story, beautifully told. My prose books in some way have all been explanations of what I feel my poetry holds without any explanation, but in the storytelling that prose allows: in the narratives of my mother’s life, in the lives I follow in ‘The Three Marriages,’ or out of the fruitful traumas I experienced in the Himalayas or the Galapagos. Through storytelling, perspectives can be won and most of all enjoyed, far beyond the satisfactions of mere explanation.
But regarding prose, my most rewarding experiences came in writing the essays that made up Consolations, a book written almost completely whilst traveling around the planet, in hotel lobbies, trains, boats and planes and even on steep mountain sides: a series of lightning raids written in a kind of psychological collaboration with my then assistant, Julie Quiring; who helped shepherd, not only my writing endeavours but midwifing the essays out to my readers to meet our self-appointed deadlines. In writing Consolations in all of those memorable locations, I experienced the same physical sense of arrival and disappearance that has always accompanied the writing of poetry.
– David Whyte