BY JOELLEN COLLINS
By the time you read this I will be in Walnut Creek, California, unpacking boxes and getting used to my new, smaller digs. While I am sad at not being able to spend more time with the people and activities I love in “my town,” I am awaiting with pleasure my new life, with my grandchildren, family, and friends near where I was born, in Berkeley.
Going through and tossing out tons of former Christmas cards, sentimental letters, and more writing pieces than I remember creating, I came across the box of poems that I have cut out of magazines the past few years, and lots of poems I wrote and either didn’t publish or have kept for reworking. I also found newspaper bits about the poetry slams we used to love when I first arrived here in the ’80s. One of the poems I wrote at that time has become my “signature poem,” one that expresses my love for this comforting place, and my memories of another source of care for me, my mother, and what I instinctively felt about living in Idaho.
Here is the poem:
SEGO LILY
Sego in the sage,
White as the parachute-nylon silk blouses Mother
And I wore in 1943,
Floating us in memory,
My mother light as a lyric,
Strong as a sonata,
Embrace of sky and arms
And scent of Chanel.
Never since have I been loved as well:
I imagine dropping again into her arms.
This sere landscape supports
The lone lily,
Petals like piano keys softly pressed,
Sound as pure as a kiss.
I place your petals against my cheek, silk against dry heat.
Soothe me like a swan’s feather in a gentle breeze.
Show me beauty can thrive in dust.
I can appreciate this poem even though I won’t be in a “sere” landscape as I was on the day I was inspired to write this poem after a long hike through higher areas with spare vegetation. My little place is near a grove of oak trees, one of my favorite California sights. It cannot take the place of the magnificent nearby mountains and vegetation I have experienced in Idaho, but I will remind myself that I have been blessed to have over 40 years in the midst of changing seasons, caring friends, and so many intelligent and creative acquaintances.
What the sego lily and the Idaho landscape in which it flourishes wound up teaching me was, indeed, that whatever griefs or sadness life throws at us can be borne and we can heal if we allow ourselves to truly experience the beauty and openness of our environment and take time to know those neighbors who have also chosen the peace and serenity along with the challenges and delights of the nearby wilderness. Of course, the truth also includes the comfort of being part of a small town and the positives of knowing each other well.
I feel I have thrived here. I am grateful for my words.
