How to Be a Poet
(After Wendell Berry)

To be a poet is not just to write poetry. To be a poet is not to refuse to look at a computer screen. To be a poet is not to find some structured, patterned language in which to fit a thought.
To be a poet: accept. Qualia is a term that defines the unique experience of how our senses manifest. We may both agree that this text is black, but how can we know that I see the same shade of black as you do? To be a poet: accept that all perspectives have value.
To be a poet: listen. Listen to the unbalanced grating of the washer machine thrown slightly off its axis; listen to the blanket of sounds caressing your skin as you sit on the bus. Listen to the sounds and dreams of the world around you.
To be a poet: think. Think of the way the tap of fingers feel against your jeans; think of all those little projects you never quite managed to follow. Think of all those thoughts you were scared to acknowledge.
To be a poet: feel. Feel for the smiles and the averted eyes; feel for the lost souls and the newlyweds. Feel sunshine on your face, feel wind brushing against your jacket. Just feel.
To be a poet: dream. Dream and don’t stop. Dream about dreaming. Dream about running away. Dream about getting more sleep. Dream with such reverence that others start to dream again too.  
Some days you may not have a pen. Some days you may not have a computer. Some days may be bright and warm, others dark and cold. Being a poet is not about meeting certain conditions; being a poet is about finding meaning in what exists.