If you are a poetry person (I don’t say a poet—unless you are that, of course—I mean anyone who finds that the occasional poem sets your heart at rest), and you haven’t yet discovered the delight of Poetry Forge, let me introduce you.

Holly Wren Spaulding is the founder of this school of imagination and poetic craft, and she teaches and invites with gentleness and curiosity, and a gift for nourishing slowness. She wears her deep poetic knowledge and experience in a quiet, celebratory way, one that always makes me feel empowered and never diminished.

I’ve taken more than one class from Holly over the past several years. If you’re someone who’s interested in encouraging and exploring craft in community (whether you are, in Holly’s phrase, a poet or a secret poet), I recommend them to you also. And I recommend her Poetry as Consolation series to anyone with even the vaguest contemplative, poem-curious orientation.

I’m not only saying this because I’ll be next month’s Poetry as Consolation guest. I attend every PaC that fits my schedule. The series, which has been ongoing since March of 2020, was my gateway to the Poetry Forge community.

I saw the name—maybe a friend sent it to me?—and I recognized the concept instantly, because consolation is something I think about daily.* Something I build my life around, I think I can safely say after years of intentionally doing it. And poetry—ah. Asked why I write, I have said “to companion myself,” and, closely related: because poetry is a reliable consolation. Hearing it, reading it, composing it. I talked to a Christian monk once who illustrated the dailiness of the spiritual life like this:

I locate poetry firmly in that “consolation” part.

The way these sessions work is a little different every time, but they follow a similar gentle flow of being welcomed with a poem (read slowly, twice), writing together, listening in on craft discussions with Holly and a guest (who may or may not be a poet; I still think about a session with a Buddhist teacher and textile artist), Q&A, and another slow reading. They last about an hour.

I’m absolutely delighted to be next month’s guest. We’ll talk about poems as companions on the spiritual journey, about the deep joy of the anti-capitalist bookmaking I’ve been so privileged to be part of with both of my books, about books as (affordable!) physical objects of art…and probably about hand-writing, because I can’t shut up about it. And who knows what else. I look forward to finding out. See you there?

*That link is me thinking about it in…March 2020. What a moment.