By James Harvey Stout (deceased). This material is now in the public domain. The complete collection of Mr. Stout's writing is now at http://stout.mybravenet.com/public_html/h/ .

As poets spontaneously gives form to their vision, symbolism occurs naturally, and without self-conscious effort. If I desire to be a drummer, I buy the instrument, and the instrument is an expression of a true desire to bring out that aspect of myself. It's a symbol of who I am.

However, if somehow I had reasoned that I "should" be a drummer, the act of buying and playing the drum would not be a natural expression of myself. There would not be a balance between the inner life (where there is no desire to play a drum) and the outer life (where there is a drum). The symbol is not true to me, and it is there only because a mental concept or a feeling has interfered with my expression of life (in which there is no need to play a drum).

A poem truly conveyed is an expression of life -- the life of the poem as it exists in essence. When it is expressed in its own symbols and references and contexts, it has a singular beauty that is colored only slightly by the poet's own beauty. If we are conscientious and sensitive, we may find that there is only one word for each moment of the poem as it flows through its verses. There is only one way to express the exact vision as it is perceived in the moment. And yet there is perhaps no written word that can convey the experience itself.

That is one difference between poetry and music. Poetry describes experience; music is, itself, an experience. Poetry talks about life, love, and beauty. Music directly evokes those things.

Poetry, with all its amazing capacity to convey images and contexts of experiences, is still only a reflection and imitation of reality. It is bound, through its limitations -- the limitations of mind (its fabricator) -- to stay within the confines of vocabulary and logic (or some other process by which the mind can experience the poem).

Music -- as sound vibrations -- has no boundaries (except those of its composers, players, and instruments in the physical world), no mental contexts or limitations (except those imposed and accepted as scales, progressions, and chord structures), and no reason but to be itself, as a living energy flowing forever in beauty.

There is more said in the timbre of a single draw of a violin bow than has been said in any poem written.