ShlleyA Map in my Blood
By Carla Braidek
Published by Thistledown Press
$17.95 ISBN 978-1-77187-096-2
Saskatchewan writer Carla Braidek鈥檚 most recent poetry demonstrates deep gratitude for the boreal forest in which she lives and the enviable life she鈥檚 made there, but, like anyone with the gift of imagination and the fancy of a dreamer, her emotional pendulum can鈥檛 help but swing toward 鈥淲hat if?鈥� Even the book鈥檚 title, A Map in my Blood,聽 hints at the restlessness that runs beneath poems that celebrate the natural world and its creatures, family, food, the work of the land, childhood innocence and rural living.
The opening poem, Where Do I Begin, sets the bar high. 鈥淏eginning鈥� here can refer to the book itself or the spinning of a life鈥檚 tale. It鈥檚 also a phrase commonly used to express exasperation. I admire how the Big River poet begins with ordinary details 鈥� a broken ankle, helping fix a deck 鈥� then she takes an existential leap and asks: 鈥渉ow do we know where a moment begins?鈥� This questioning ferries readers to a deeper level. A spark fires, we鈥檙e engaged and committed to asking ourselves the same question about the details of our own lives. Making our own small worlds universally resonate is the key to successful poetry.
The poems swing between serenity and anxiousness, and at both extremes Braidek treats us to original images 鈥斅� 鈥渁nemones ghost the lane by the bridge\rain dapples stones until appaloosa blankets\rumple on hills beyond the pasture gate.鈥�
In Fingers Like Wings, she describes how work gloves that have fallen from pockets 鈥渢rail on the path like bread crumbs marking, not the way back, but the place we fly forward from, fingers splayed into wind.鈥� I love 鈥渁 pot of daisies rises on the veranda\one small sun reluctant to let summer go,鈥� and her gorgeous image honouring 鈥渁 man who keeps the sun in his pocket.鈥� He is a gardener and preserver whose 鈥渏ars\glow on their shelves with the intensity\of a midsummer rainbow.鈥� Easy to see this, and feel the quiet joy it transmits.
Braidek delivers glorious sensorial leaps 鈥斅� 鈥済ood wishes smell\faintly of oranges,鈥� 鈥� and a good deal of musicality 鈥斅� 鈥渕y neighbour鈥檚 corn is disappearing\ear by ear into the night鈥�.
The restlessness is often indicated by hunger 鈥� 鈥渙ne day I wake up ravenous鈥� 鈥� and is voiced in lines like 鈥渟he struggles with possibilities\flips pages in her mind,鈥� and 鈥渁 void wants to be filled.鈥�
We all hunger, but what鈥檚 described in The Rock, a narrative told in one long paragraph, is as close to my idea of utopia as it comes. 鈥淎 day on one鈥檚 own property with time to sit on the deck and watch the children play, then move to the campfire where vegetables and 鈥榤oose strips鈥� are roasted. The 鈥榙ogs skulk at the edge of the yard, half crazy with the smell of fresh meat,鈥� and as evening arrives the guitars and fiddles comes out, and the children settle onto laps by the fire. If only that were the tune of 鈥渁ll our lives\being sung,鈥� what a happier world this would be.聽聽聽
This book is available at your local bookstore or from www.skbooks.com.
