As a poet, it is difficult not to be inspired by nature. The tranquillity, rage, transformation, struggles, and persistent lessons are not only profound but also teach patience and keen observational skills.
It is an undeniable and absolute truth that we are of the elements and energies of nature. There are not many nature poems being composed of some pure passion. It is human to be distracted, hurt, and occupied by the world around that has insulated itself from the natural emotions.
The tears, joys, disappointments are attributed to human transgressions; as much it is true, we forget that nature is also behind changes in life. Nature shows us the examples to deal with such changes which are either minor or more intense.
If we forget to identify the similarities with nature, the distance will be filled with some questionable emotion, which will appear to only subdue the resilience of human nature. Readers of poetry and fiction do not like to be provoked by these truthful emotions any more.
Any creativity cannot be ambivalent and non-committal to these natural feelings. With the propensity to structure the poem in a straitjacket of harsh and biased perspectives, the literary piece fails to utter the real emotions that are buried; deep within the forcefully created spaces.
The poem, fiction, essays that do not conform to the persistently superficial colours fail to attract the eyes. Well, literature is not for the eyes! It has to be read, re-read, and has to become an obsessive search for its myriad meanings.
The nature of a writer is influenced by nature, its profoundness, the temper, and its essential appeal to teach. The human perspectives are woven with nature to create a complete narrative. They are inseparable! It is really harsh on poetry to stifle by similar harshness and barbs.
A poet has to evolve to soften the creative process for it to flow with ease. It is upon the writer/poet to facilitate the passage for freedom! As a poet, I have realised that I have a profound bond with nature and denying it will be my foolishness.
All that occurs in my life- the good and bad, the light and darkness, the triumphs and failures are not merely by the society I am in, but also by nature, the universe, which we fail to comprehend. As a poet, if I shrink life and concentrate on the worldly reasons and interventions, then the soul of the poem will fail to resurrect.