{"id":20189,"date":"2023-11-01T00:10:39","date_gmt":"2023-11-01T00:10:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/?p=20189"},"modified":"2023-10-31T20:12:53","modified_gmt":"2023-10-31T20:12:53","slug":"serenity-and-the-sego-lily","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/2023\/11\/01\/serenity-and-the-sego-lily\/","title":{"rendered":"SERENITY AND THE SEGO LILY"},"content":{"rendered":"

BY JOELLEN COLLINS<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"
JoEllen Collins\u2014a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley\u2014is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as \u201cBibi Jo.\u201d<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

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 \u201cmy town,\u201d I am awaiting with pleasure my new life, with my grandchildren, family, and friends near where I was born, in Berkeley.
\nGoing 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\u2019t publish or have kept for reworking.\u00a0I also found newspaper bits about the poetry slams we used to love when I first arrived here in the \u201980s.\u00a0One of the poems I wrote at that time has become my \u201csignature poem,\u201d 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.<\/p>\n

Here is the poem:<\/p>\n

SEGO LILY<\/strong>
\nSego in the sage,
\nWhite as the parachute-nylon silk blouses Mother
\nAnd I wore in 1943,
\nFloating us in memory,
\nMy mother light as a lyric,
\nStrong as a sonata,
\nEmbrace of sky and arms
\nAnd scent of Chanel.
\nNever since have I been loved as well:
\nI imagine dropping again into her arms.
\nThis sere landscape supports
\nThe lone lily,
\nPetals like piano keys softly pressed,
\nSound as pure as a kiss.
\nI place your petals against my cheek, silk against dry heat.
\nSoothe me like a swan\u2019s feather in a gentle breeze.
\nShow me beauty can thrive in dust.<\/p>\n

I can appreciate this poem even though I won\u2019t be in a \u201csere\u201d 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.
\nWhat 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.
\nI feel I have thrived here. I am grateful for my words.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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 \u201cmy town,\u201d I am awaiting with pleasure my new […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":16827,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","_pvb_checkbox_block_on_post":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,22],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-20189","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-commentary","8":"category-on-lifes-terms"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20189","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20189"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20189\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20190,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20189\/revisions\/20190"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16827"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20189"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20189"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20189"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}