26 Letters

I sat down to write this poem about a week ago, and thought there was no possible way that I could come up with something decent, and then actually have to say it to people. There were just too many ideas out there, too many options to choose from, and too many different words, phrases, and sentences with which to convey them. However, before I could become too discouraged, I discovered something poetic within the assignment itself: no matter what I ended up writing, every one of my potential creations would simply be a combination of the same 26 letters.

26 letters. With these same figures, the renowned Renaissance playwrights composed their many great theatrical works.

26 letters. With these same characters, numerous famed authors organized their massive collections of novels.

26 letters. With this very alphabet, the most successful poets of their eras concocted their masterpieces. The whimsical writings of Whitman, the depressed yet distinguished words of Dickinson, all were written with these same small strokes of a pencil.

When we write, we assemble innumerable amalgamations of 26 letters, we string them into series of sentences, and form them into works of art. Standing alone, the qualities of our alphabet extend over a broad spectrum of phonetic possibilities. We then further twist, bend, and morph them into our own styles and dialects, just as our predecessors have done for centuries before us.

Before I conclude, I’d like to leave you with a question. If our ancestors have utilized our alphabet to create countless works withstanding the test of time, what will our generation do to build upon this legacy?