A poem, being an instance of language, hence essentially dialogue, may be a letter in a bottle thrown out to the sea with the—surely not always strong—hope that it may somehow wash up somewhere, perhaps on the shoreline of the heart.
In this way, too, poems are en route: they are headed towards. Toward what? Toward something open, inhabitable, an approachable you perhaps -
an approachable reality.
— Paul Celan