Take heart my friends who dare to dream

I can still recall the astonished look on the faces of some of my friends. A Poetry festival! Who would come to a Poetry Festival? Even in our poetic village of Mcgregor there were those residents who could not hide their skeptical frowns. Worst of all was the frequent reaction ‘I don’t like poetry so you won’t  be seeing me!’. Indeed at times it began to feel as if I lived on another planet. I had grown up with poetry. Poetry defined my life’s journey. It had become the language of my soul. Yet suddenly I was at a loss for words to defend it.  What can you say to someone who does know the enriching experience of sitting at the feet of a poet?  My quiet love for poets is undying. Their words have raised me from out of my graves, lifted my spirit into symphonies of softness and beauty,  comforted me in times of solitude and doubt, set me aflame with the challenge of what it means to be truly human. Their words have been the eyes of insight and wisdom into what I might never have been able to see or feel.

I took comfort in the words of Adrian Mitchell ‘ Most people ignore most poetry, because most poetry ignores most people.’

If it was not for the passion and support of the truly amazing committee that had decided to take the plunge with me, the McGregor Poetry Festival would not have materialized.  In fact we decided to call ourselves ‘playmates’ rather than committee members as we were so aware that we would be playing an edge. Jennifer Johnson, Annie Norgarb, Anne Binos, Marinda Oosthuizen, Dave Magner. I salute you, as indeed I salute the poets who went out on a limb with us to participate in the Festival.

The night before the opening of our event the wind blew in McGregor as never before. I sat in my study shuddering. If already there was a reticence to celebrate poets and poetry who on earth would brave gale force winds to cross the mountains to our valley?

I leant over to a box of Angel cards which lay on my desk. During the weeks preceding the festival our committee had pulled a card prior to each meeting for a smile, at least. Frustrated, I kept choosing PATIENCE. Now, on this night of howling hurricanes with dread knocking the door, I turned over my card of choice. There it was again, PATIENCE!

The next day all was calm   And they began to arrive. Not only the beloved poets, but the lovers of poetry. They came in numbers far exceeding  anything we could have hoped for. In fact businesses in McGregor reported back to us that this had been the village’s most successful festival ever!  A huge thank you to all of you who supported the dream.  Remember, you too can dream – against all odds.

I end with a quote from Dylan Thomas

‘Poetry is what makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toenails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own’

With love, and gratitude

Billy

PS. I am now convinced that the gale that blew on the Friday night was no less than the Greek gods arriving on their chariots!