I credit poetry for making this space-walk possible.

The Irish poet and Nobel laureate Seamus Heaney, whose verses bridged the ancient soil of Ireland with the infinite horizons of the human spirit, once declared: “I credit poetry for making this space-walk possible.” These words, poetic even in their simplicity, remind us that poetry is not merely language bound to the page, but a force that enlarges the soul, allowing us to walk beyond the limits of the ordinary. The space-walk he speaks of is both metaphor and miracle: the ability of the human spirit to step into the vast unknown, sustained not by technology alone, but by imagination and words that give meaning to existence.

To understand Heaney’s claim, we must first know that poetry is a form of vision. It does not build rockets or engines, yet it builds within us the capacity to dream. Without imagination, men would never look up to the stars and wonder if they might reach them. Poetry lifts the soul as gravity lifts the tide—it prepares the mind for transcendence. Thus, when Heaney speaks of poetry making the “space-walk possible,” he is acknowledging that every great leap of humanity begins not with science, but with vision, and vision is nourished by poetry.

History confirms this. Long before astronauts set foot on the moon, long before Yuri Gagarin circled the earth, the poets had already voyaged into the heavens. Homer sang of gods striding through the constellations. Dante, in his Divine Comedy, ascended through the celestial spheres. The Romantics gazed into the night sky and felt the immensity of human longing mirrored in the stars. These were not literal voyages, but they planted the seeds of possibility. Without such poetic space-walks of the imagination, the physical journey would never have followed.

Heaney’s own life reflected this truth. Born into the rural soil of Northern Ireland, his world was bounded by fields, conflict, and hardship. Yet through poetry, he transcended those limits. His words lifted him into a larger universe, one where human suffering could be redeemed by beauty, and where the local was connected to the eternal. For him, poetry was the oxygen of the soul, the suit that allowed him to walk through the cold vacuum of despair without being destroyed. Just as astronauts require helmets to breathe in space, Heaney required poetry to breathe in the vastness of existence.

Consider, too, the moment when John F. Kennedy declared America’s intent to go to the moon. His speech was not technical; it was poetic. He spoke of choosing to go, not because it was easy, but because it was hard—words that stirred imagination and will. This shows us Heaney’s truth: the space-walk was not only made possible by engineers, but by poets in disguise, whose language summoned the courage to attempt the impossible. The rocket may have lifted the body, but poetry lifted the spirit.

The meaning of Heaney’s words is therefore this: poetry expands the boundaries of the possible. It allows us to walk beyond fear, beyond despair, beyond the confines of what is merely known. It teaches us to imagine ourselves larger than we are, and in that imagining, to achieve what once seemed unreachable. Whether the space is outer or inner, whether the walk is on the moon or through the corridors of grief, poetry is the guide that carries us forward.

The lesson for us, children of tomorrow, is clear. Cherish poetry not only as art, but as sustenance. Read it when your soul feels small, for it will expand you. Write it when your spirit feels trapped, for it will free you. Do not ask what practical use it has; ask instead what stars it teaches you to see. For it may not build your rocket, but it will give you the courage to launch.

Thus, remember Seamus Heaney’s wisdom: every space-walk begins in the imagination, and imagination is nurtured by poetry. Guard it, honor it, and let it enlarge your spirit, for with it you may walk not only through space, but through life itself—unafraid, unbound, and ever reaching toward the infinite.