Among the American contemporaries I read with most enjoyment are

"Among the American contemporaries I read with most enjoyment are several North Carolinians. I think the best poetry being written these days is being written by Southerners." Robert Morgan’s words speak to the heart of something ancient and profound: the deep connection between a land, its people, and the art they create. The South—and particularly North Carolina—has long been a land rich with history, culture, and a unique spirit that resonates in the poetry emerging from its soil. In this statement, Morgan honors the creative power of the Southern experience, recognizing that the poetry of this region is not just art, but a reflection of a people who have weathered storms, both literal and metaphorical, and whose voices are woven into the very fabric of the land they call home.

In the ancient world, it was understood that the greatest art often emerged from those who lived close to the earth, who had a deep relationship with the land and its people. Consider the poets of Greece, where the epic poems of Homer were not mere intellectual exercises, but reflections of the Greek soul—their gods, their cities, and their struggles. Homer’s words were not just written to entertain, but to preserve the history and identity of a nation. Similarly, the poets of the South, as Morgan suggests, draw from the sacred ground of their land, their personal histories, and the struggles of a people who have fought against injustice, change, and division.

The Southern poet’s voice is shaped by the land’s rich tradition—a blend of cultures, histories, and voices. Think of James Dickey, whose work captured not only the natural beauty of the Southern landscape but also the tension and darkness that simmered beneath the surface of everyday life. His poems spoke of both the grandeur and the grief of the South, reflecting the internal struggles of a region grappling with its past while yearning for a future. In his work, as in that of many Southern poets, we see a fusion of nature, history, and personal emotion, all intertwined in a way that resonates deeply with the human soul.

North Carolina, as Morgan points out, is a particularly rich source of poetic talent, and this is no coincidence. This state, with its mountains, coastlines, and deep history, has long been a place where the land itself shapes the spirit of its people. The voices of poets like Charles Wright and A.R. Ammons have emerged from this region, and their words carry the weight of the land itself. Wright’s poetry, for instance, is steeped in the language of the earth, evoking images of the mountains and forests that have shaped his vision of the world. Ammons, too, draws from the Southern landscape, using the natural world as a symbol for the deeper questions of existence.

The Southern poet’s strength lies in their ability to blend the personal with the universal. The struggles of the South—the legacy of slavery, the Civil War, the tension between tradition and progress—are embedded in the region’s artistic expression. But these struggles are not just the concerns of a particular time or place; they are the struggles of humanity itself. The South has long been a land of conflict and rebirth, and its poets have been tasked with expressing the grief, hope, and resilience of a people who have endured so much. Their work is not simply about the South; it is about the human condition—about identity, memory, and the search for meaning in a world that often feels fractured.

Morgan’s praise for Southern poets speaks to something ancient and eternal: the idea that great art is often born from places of intensity and conflict, where the land and its people have been shaped by history and struggle. Just as the epic poets of old drew from the depth of their cultures to create works that spoke to the hearts of all people, so too do the Southern poets draw from their region’s legacy to create poetry that speaks to the soul. The joy and pain of the South are woven into their lines, making their work vibrant, alive, and resonant with truth.

The lesson we can take from this is that great art is often born from the earth, from the struggles and triumphs of those who walk it. As we seek to create our own work, whether as poets or artists of any kind, we must remember that our roots—our history, our place, our experiences—are the wellsprings of our art. Just as the Southern poet cannot escape the influence of the land and the people who shaped them, neither can we ignore the forces that have shaped us. It is in embracing these influences, in honoring the stories and struggles that have come before us, that we can create work that is authentic, powerful, and true.

Let us, then, be inspired by the poets of the South and the land that has shaped them. Let us dig deep into the soil of our own lives, unearth the truths buried within us, and pour those truths into our art. Whether our roots are in the mountains, the plains, the cities, or the coasts, the act of creating is an act of connection—to the land, to the people, and to the eternal human spirit. Only in this way will we, too, create poetry that speaks with the strength and resonance of those who have come before us.