Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Under the Influence of Lilacs


Under the Influence of Lilacs
Deborah Gordon Cooper
This collection of poems is an interesting combination of remembering, observing the process of aging, counseling the grieving, and finding solace in nature. In her opening poem – Prelude to Daybreak – we glimpse the world that Ms. Cooper lives in  – “of waiting rooms/and penitentiaries.”  And it ends with the solace she seeks in nature “step out the door/breathe deeply in.”    The world of plants is her world, the gardener, the naturalist – “I am that half-remembered/tender-green/color of longing.”
It is poetry that releases her emotions and comforts those around her, “I read poetry/ the way someone/ somewhere else/ reads scripture.”  And she moves in a sensory world, “Leave your cell phone, your watch/ your thoughts/ on the kitchen table. “  “Walk slowly.  Leave the trail.”   And if this is autobiographical as well as philosophical we know “though I am easily/ distracted by/ a kite, caught/ in a tree” she is not without compassion and commitment to the people around her.  Nor does she lack humor, “And still, I keep catching myself/  addressing myself out loud/ as if I am my constant friend…” and I cannot give away the punch line.
Her gift to the world is her ability to capture the frustrations and fears that surround the human experience – “Let us pray that we might cease/ to plant the seeds of fear/ and hatred in their minds/ that we might never lay/ another weapon of destruction/ in their arms.”
There were poems I read to Kate because they captured her love of grandchildren Imagine and others that captured the love we share as we grow old together The Dancers.  Moving forward we also look backward and “the faces in these photographs/ become the faces of the dead/ my secret saints.”   And there are lines that are perfect in capturing a moment – “The sky is packed with/ sack-of-flour clouds.” 
She takes us to the complex places through the common place – “In a soft fold of time/ between the ironing/ and the income tax,” and reminds us that in life “We are just passing through/ these bones.”

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