Poetry Friends, Jody Collins

"Mining the Bright Birds"

Hello, Poetry Friend

I have a friend whose Christmas card always includes her own handwritten poem inside. She does this for her entire list. She just gives away beauty.

When it comes to my own poetry beauty, I hide my light under a bushel (aka, in a composition book, probably bought on clearance). Because a poem I write on Wednesday that seems brillian, by Friday looks trite. But then the one I wrote at poetry group that I thought was … fine … a week later, sparkles. Yesterday I wanted to show you everything I’ve ever written. Today I want to build a bonfire and watch it burn, baby, burn. When it comes to my own stuff, I’m conflicted.

Where I’m not conflicted? Other people’s stuff. When I love something, I want everyone else to love it too. (Ask my friends.)

So occasionally I’ll be highlighting work by contemporary poets I love. Each collection is one I have journaled through, letting their poems inspire some of my own. The first poet we’ll read is Jody Collins, who writes at Poetry & Made Things.

I had known poet Jody Collins in online spaces before we got a chance to meet at the Windhover Writer’s Festival at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. We met for lunch and here’s how great Jody is — I’d forgotten my wallet and she bought my lunch. Even better, she brought her copy of my book The Joy of Poetry, and showed me all her markings.

Mining the Bright Birds is Jody’s third and most recent poetry collection. It begins with an epigraph from St. Teresa of Avila, about God calling and our longing to find a way home. How do we get there? Jody shows us — glimmer by glimmer, bird song by bird song.

I adore bird poems. Because when I don’t know what to write about, I write about birds.

Rainbow Crow, by Nan Henke, inspired by my poem of the same name

The book has four sections: Waiting Spaces, Tuning, Seasons, and Wayfinding. The poems are centered in nature, mostly right around Jody’s home in Seattleland. The title poem includes something I’ve never seen — a hummingbird in the snow.

Mining the Bright Birds

I strain towards the future,
eyes focused on the far away
past empty, quiet gray,
looking for a hummingbird
in the snow.
Squint at fine twig lines
sliced across white
over emerald in front
of dormant sienna.
I spy her there, gemstone
stately in her royal stance
among the branches.
The view slows me to the present.
It is no effort, truly, to plow
my way through buried days,
if I but gentle my busy self,
settle and sit, sip and settle,
welcome the daytime darkness,
mining the bright birds.

– Jody Lee Collins

Next week I’ll share one of my poems inspired by another one of Jody’s. In the meantime, I’ll look out these winter windows and see what wings are in the bare trees.

Poetry Journal

• Read Jody’s bird poem. Why do you think she used the word “mining”?

• Jot down what you notice, what you like, what you don’t, what questions you have, and at least one way in which her poem speaks to you.

• Read the poem again, aloud (if you didn’t the first time). Is there anything you notice this time that you want to add to your journal?

• Write your own poem about a bird — especially one in an unexpected place, like the hummingbird in the snow. If you like, email me what you write.

Happy poeming!

Megan