Go into the light.
Cynthia Reeser’s new book of poetry, Light and Trials of Light(Finishing Line Press, 2010), is not to be taken lightly. It’s not to be taken heavily either. But don’t let that freak you out. No no no. Because Light and Trials of Light doesn’t want to freak you out. It does, however, want to get freaky with you. Sorry…Couldn’t help myself.
Cynthia Reeser is a poet. A true poet. She’s a poet’s poet. But more than that. She’s an extremely cerebral poet, and by that I mean she’s…a craftsman. An architect. A maker of containers filled with worlds. Not words, worlds. Big worlds. Emotional worlds. Worlds that will leave you breathless. Worlds that cannot be witnessed at a glance. No. To see the worlds of Cynthia Reeser, one must be very still, because these worlds often exist in nature, where birds take flight and morning mists crawl, and where human emotions are fused somewhere in between. To witness these worlds, one must…try. One must engage, for the poems in Light and Trials of Light are…not to be taken lightly.
Despite the need to engage oneself, to submerge, into the worlds (and words) of Cynthia Reeser, the engaging power of these worlds (and words) is in no way lessened. In fact, it’s amplified.
From the opening of “The Season:”
A tuneless whistle rises
from the gander’s empty throat
among erupting raucous laughter:
a pneumatic effrontery
arises to kiss from within,
the tickle of a surging threat.
Reeser’s word selection is meticulous and meaningful, thus offering a surplus of expression in poems which, generally speaking, are already compact. The result is an expanded language, a balloon stretched to its limits. And yet it refuses to pop.
From “The Amputees,” a poem in which a mother remembers a day her child will not:
They came hacking,
sawing, scraping: reaping
limbs, but only just
on the side threatening
the power lines.
When they left,
limbs lay dripping
useless sap all over
this new battlefield.
Light and Trials of Light is an intense, often beautiful study of loss through change, or vice versa. Landscapes shift, relationships crumble, children grow, and memories act as ethereal ushers. But it’s also an acceptance of that change, a fragile understanding embedded in a somber confidence.
From “The Year:”
The lilac brush does not hide the
heaviness of rain. Keens itself,
for want of bygone seedlings dropped,
for loss of dove-pecked buds.
Needless to say, Light and Trials of Light is a must. Go get.
*Cynthia was recently the Featured Poet of the Week at Full of Crow’s Blog Talk Radio. Listen to her read from Light and Trials of Light HERE.
Visit Cynthia HERE.
Purchase Light and Trials of Light HERE.
Glad to see this reviewed, Mel. She’s great.
She also did a great job reading the other night on the Poetry Hour as the featured poet, as did this Mel character. You know, this guy.
[...] dying to get Cynthia Reeser’s Light and Trials of Light in my mailbox. I refuse to read Mel Bosworth’s review of it until I get a chance to fall in love with it all on my [...]
Thanks, Lynn. And thanks Dragon Houle Lady. Cynthia is crazy awesome. I have no idea who “Mel” is. My name is…Cliff. Yeah….Cliff.