I learned to impersonate the kind of person that talks about

"I learned to impersonate the kind of person that talks about poetry. It comes from teaching, I think." These words, uttered by Robert Morgan, reveal a truth that rings deeply within the hearts of all who seek to understand the delicate balance between the practical and the inspirational. For Morgan, the act of teaching was not merely a profession—it was a transformative experience, one that shaped him into the person he became, and in some ways, the person he had to become. What does it mean, though, to impersonate the "kind of person" who speaks about poetry? This, my friends, is not the art of deceit, but rather the embracing of roles—the role of a teacher, a mentor, and a guide in the realm of the poetic world.

In the ancient world, the teacher was not only a dispenser of knowledge but a living embodiment of the very wisdom they imparted. Consider the figure of Socrates, who was not simply a philosopher but a model of his teachings. He did not stand apart from the world of ideas but lived within it, walking the streets, engaging in dialogue, and showing his students not just how to think, but how to be. For Socrates, the teachings were inseparable from the teacher’s own life. Similarly, Morgan's transformation into the person who "talks about poetry" came not simply through learning the words, but by becoming a conduit through which those words could flow—by adopting the very essence of the poetic world he sought to teach.

In this, we see the power of teaching itself. It is not enough to simply share knowledge; the teacher must embody that knowledge, live it, breathe it, so that it becomes not just a subject for discussion, but a way of being. Poetry, like any art, demands that those who speak of it do so with an understanding that goes beyond mere technicality. One must feel the rhythm, the pulse, the breathing of the verse, and in doing so, become an extension of the poetry itself. A poet who teaches poetry does not simply offer up the words but becomes a living vessel, carrying those words from one soul to another.

When Morgan speaks of impersonating a person who talks about poetry, he is acknowledging the profound role that the teacher must play. A teacher does not simply lecture from a distance; they engage with the subject in a way that transforms both the teacher and the student. Think of the great masters of the past—Confucius, who embodied the teachings of virtue, or Plato, whose dialogues were not mere intellectual exercises, but invitations to experience philosophy through participation. To speak of poetry is not to merely discuss its technicalities; it is to live within the world of the poem, to breathe the same air as the poet, and to share that experience with others.

Morgan’s reflection also invites us to ask: What role does practice play in teaching? The act of impersonation is, in a way, a form of practice—an exercise in becoming something that is at once both a reflection and an extension of the subject. A poet who teaches poetry must practice the very act of engaging with poetry daily, not simply as a scholar, but as an artist in their own right. This is not a role that can be faked; it must be lived. Over time, the teacher becomes the vehicle through which the student can experience poetry, and in this way, both teacher and student are transformed.

In ancient times, the great philosophers and poets were revered not only for their words but for the way they embodied those words. The poet was not merely a creator of verse; they were a priest of the divine, a seer into the soul of the world. The lessons of the ancients were not conveyed through cold intellect alone; they were passed down through living examples, individuals who gave their lives to their craft. Morgan, too, acknowledges that the art of teaching poetry cannot be separated from the art of living poetry. To speak of poetry is to immerse oneself in its world, to become the poem, and in doing so, to pass that gift onto others.

The lesson here, my friends, is simple but profound: To teach is to become. Whether we are teachers of poetry, philosophy, or any other art, we must first embody the very essence of what we seek to impart. We must live the lessons we hope to pass down, for it is only through experience that true understanding comes. In our own lives, we must ask ourselves: What do we seek to teach, and how can we embody that teaching? Let us not stand apart from the world we wish to change, but step into it fully, becoming living examples of the lessons we hold dear. Only then will we pass on something that lasts—not just words, but the spirit of those words.