I have a confession to make: I used to hate poetry. Reading poetry is a lot like meditating and I hate that too. I’ve tried it at least a dozen times–in lotus position (my back started to ache), lying on the floor (I fell asleep), and sitting in a chair (I gave up after the sixth verse of “The Song that Never Ends” played in my head). To benefit from meditation you have to fully enter into it. To fully experience poetry you have to slow down enough to let each word sink in, move you, and change your perspective. It takes patience, a virtue I lack entirely. Poetry also scares me a little. It reveals things that are hidden, a thought that both intrigues and terrifies me.