April Is Poetry Month, Come Sit by the Fire

April always feels like a door cracking open.

Sounds and scents get in. Air moves. And if you listen closely, you can hear it, the quiet hum of language waking up. It’s Poetry Month, and for me, poetry has never been just words on a page. It’s been a companion. A translator. A bridge.

As a totally blind person, I’ve experienced poetry through touch and sound, through braille, through voice, through the cadence of language that doesn’t need sight to be seen.

For many, many years, I’ve received Poetry Foundation‘s magazine Poetry in braille, free of charge through the National Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled. That’s not just access. That’s belonging. That’s a quiet but powerful declaration: you are part of this conversation.

And what a conversation it is.

Poetry as a Voice That Refuses to Be Silenced

Poetry has always been where truth slips past the guards.

It’s where the voices of those pushed to the margins rise, not politely, not cautiously, but fully, fiercely, beautifully human.

Take Sonia Sanchez, whose words pulse with rhythm and resistance:

“we are a beautiful people / with african imaginations / full of masks and dances and swelling chants”

Or Amiri Baraka, who never let comfort dilute truth:

“Poems are bullshit unless they are / teeth or trees or lemons piled / on a step.”

And Nikki Giovanni, who reminds us of the quiet power of presence:

“I really don’t think life is about the ‘I-could-have-beens’… life is only about the ‘I-tried-to-dos.'”

These aren’t just poems. They are testimonies. They are blueprints for dignity.

And the chorus is broader still.

John Lee Clark writes from the rich, tactile, and relational world of DeafBlind experience, inviting us to rethink what communication even is. His work reminds us that language is not limited to sight or sound, it lives in touch, in proximity, in shared presence.

Audre Lorde told us plainly:

“Poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence.”

Let that land for a second.

Not a luxury. A necessity.

Poetry Through the Lens of DEIAB

If diversity is about who’s in the room, poetry asks: who gets to speak?

If equity is about fairness, poetry asks: whose stories have been erased, and how do we restore them?

If inclusion is about participation, poetry insists: listen deeply, even when it’s uncomfortable.

If accessibility is about removing barriers, poetry proves: there are infinite ways to experience language.

And if belonging is the goal… poetry is the campfire.

It’s where we gather, across race, disability, gender, class, language, history, and say: tell me your story, and I will hold it with care.

A Personal Reflection on Intersectionality

I live at a crossroads of identities.

I am a blind man navigating a world that often forgets to design with me in mind. I am a white man, married to a brilliant African-American woman, raising biracial children who carry the beauty, and complexity, of multiple worlds within them.

Poetry has helped me understand what I cannot live directly.

It has given me windows into experiences of racism, resilience, joy, grief, resistance, and love that stretch far beyond my own.

It has also given me mirrors, reflecting back my own humanity, my own blind spots (pun intended, but also… not), and my own responsibility to show up with humility and curiosity.

Intersectionality isn’t just a theory. It’s a lived, breathing reality. And poetry is one of the few places where all those layers can exist at once, messy, luminous, unresolved, and real.

You Don’t Need a Degree in Poetry (Promise)

Let me say this as clearly as I can:

You do not need to understand iambic pentameter.
You do not need to analyze structure.
You do not need to “get it right.”

Just read.

Read it like you would read a letter from someone you care about.
Read it like you would listen to a song that catches you off guard.

Let it move through you.

Let it confuse you.
Let it stir something.
Let it sit quietly.

As Robert Frost once said:

“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.”

And Emily Dickinson gave us this gem:

“If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.”

Honestly? That’s the vibe.

Why Poetry Matters, Now More Than Ever

We’re living in a time where everything is loud, fast, polarized, and, let’s be real, a little exhausting.

Poetry slows us down.

It asks us to feel.
To listen.
To sit in ambiguity without rushing to fix it.

It builds empathy in ways data alone never can.

And in the context of diversity, equity, inclusion, accessibility, and belonging, it does something radical:

It reminds us that behind every policy, every debate, every statistic…
there is a human story.

An Invitation

So here’s my invitation to you this April:

Pick up a poem.

Maybe it’s from Poetry magazine.
Maybe it’s from a voice you’ve never heard before.
Maybe it’s from someone whose life is nothing like your own.

Or maybe, just maybe, you share a poem out loud with someone you love.

Create your own little campfire.

Because at the end of the day, poetry isn’t about perfection.

It’s about connection.

And in a world that sometimes feels like it’s pulling apart at the seams…

that might be exactly what we need.

Come sit by the fire. The poems are waiting.

” Inclusion isn’t just the right thing to do — it’s a strategic advantage. “

Dr. Kirk Adams, Ph.D.
Advocate, Leader and Keynote Speaker on Disability Inclusion & Leadership
Leading the Way to Accessible Innovation

Institute for Sustainable Diversity and Inclusion (ISDI)
Executive Director
Strengthening individual and organizational capability for creating diverse, inclusive and equitable workplaces.

Innovative Impact, LLC Consulting
Managing Director
Impactful Workforce Inclusion Starts Here

American Foundation for the Blind
Immediate Past President & CEO
To create a world of no limits for people who are blind or visually impaired.

Connect With Me:

April Is Poetry Month, Come Sit by the Fire

Poetry as a Voice That Refuses to Be Silenced

Poetry Through the Lens of DEIAB

A Personal Reflection on Intersectionality

You Don’t Need a Degree in Poetry (Promise)

Why Poetry Matters, Now More Than Ever

An Invitation

Like this:

Related

Leave a ReplyCancel reply

April Is Poetry Month, Come Sit by the Fire

Poetry as a Voice That Refuses to Be Silenced

Poetry Through the Lens of DEIAB

A Personal Reflection on Intersectionality

You Don’t Need a Degree in Poetry (Promise)

Why Poetry Matters, Now More Than Ever

An Invitation

Share this:

Like this:

Related

Leave a ReplyCancel reply

Discover more from Dr. Kirk Adams