I have to interweave my poetry with purpose. For me, that

"I have to interweave my poetry with purpose. For me, that purpose is to help people, and to shed a light on issues that have far too long been in the darkness." — so declared Amanda Gorman, the young poet whose voice soared at the dawn of a new American chapter, carrying both beauty and fire. In these words she reveals the soul of her calling: that poetry is not an idle art, not merely a decoration of language, but a weapon of light, forged to pierce the shadows of silence and indifference. For her, the weaving of words must also be the weaving of justice; the music of her lines must also carry the purpose of truth.

Gorman speaks from a tradition as old as human memory. The poet has never been only an artist; he or she has always been a prophet, a guide, a torchbearer. In ancient Greece, the rhapsodes sang of the deeds of heroes not merely to entertain, but to preserve the memory and morals of the people. In West Africa, the griots told stories to keep alive the truth of a community’s struggle and wisdom. Likewise, Gorman interweaves her poetry with purpose: her voice is not solitary, but communal, carrying the burdens of many, and shining light into places where silence once reigned.

The meaning of her words can be seen in her own life. When she recited The Hill We Climb at the inauguration of a president, her poem was not an ornament to the ceremony, but a vision. She spoke of wounds and hope, of history and renewal. She named the darkness, but pointed to the dawn. The poem was not for her own glory, but for the healing of a nation. This is the essence of her saying: poetry is a lamp, and its light must be used to guide others, not only to illuminate oneself.

History offers many mirrors to this truth. Consider Pablo Neruda, who turned his pen to the struggles of his people in Chile, writing not only love poems but verses that gave voice to the oppressed. Or Maya Angelou, who interwove her poetry with purpose, speaking against racism and injustice, and in so doing became the conscience of a generation. Their work, like Gorman’s, reminds us that poetry divorced from human suffering becomes hollow, but poetry bound to human purpose becomes immortal.

There is also warning in Gorman’s wisdom: that to create only for beauty’s sake, without truth, is to risk irrelevance. Elegance without purpose becomes vanity; language without light becomes shadow. The poet who forgets the people may craft pleasing lines, but those lines will fade like mist. But the poet who takes upon herself the task of helping others, of revealing hidden injustices, of giving words to the voiceless — she will endure, for her art is tied to the pulse of humanity itself.

What, then, is the lesson for us? It is this: whatever your craft, interweave it with purpose. If you speak, let your words lift others. If you build, let your structures shelter and protect. If you sing, let your song awaken hope. Do not labor only for yourself, but for the healing of others. For when your work serves a greater light, it becomes more than work — it becomes legacy.

Practical action lies before us. Pay attention to the shadows in your own world — the issues neglected, the voices silenced, the wounds ignored. Find the way your gift, whether it is poetry, teaching, art, or kindness, can shed light there. Do not wait for permission; let your own courage be the spark. For in doing so, you honor Gorman’s wisdom, and you prove that purpose is not only for poets, but for all who dare to live truthfully.

Thus Amanda Gorman’s words shine as both testimony and command: "I have to interweave my poetry with purpose." May we too interweave our lives with purpose. For beauty alone is fleeting, but beauty joined with truth becomes eternal. To shed light on what lies too long in darkness — this is the poet’s task, and it is also the task of every soul who longs to leave the world brighter than they found it.