Reliquary — Sandy McKinney

Reliquary
By Jan Lee Ande
Texas Review Press
ISBN 1-881515-55-9
Paper, $10.95

n Reliquary, her second prize-winning book, (2002 X.J. Kennedy Poetry Prize) Ande surprises us with a notably musical juxtaposition of sounds. A limpid assonance sings through a number of the poems in "Reliquary," the second and title section, middle of three. In the poem "The Pope Adds the Mysteries of Light," for example, a mere skip through the six strophes offers:

People pass me by in the street, abuzz like bees
freed from a hive. and I feel .  .  .

.  .  .  my thin skin twinges .  .  .

.  .  .  landing with a thud, I meditate — headed for
the kingdom, to hush the ruckus a while . . .
   
.  .  .  the root's death .  .  .
as it loosens and falls .  .  .
		   

ending with the triumphant alliteration  of:

    .  .  .   darning
 needles in the fabric of air. My beads clang
 in the sun between furrowed fingers and thumb.

These sounds seem less calculated than organic. To have watched the development of Ande's poetic voice reminds one of the natural development of certain perennial late-blooming plants which, finally reaching a long-delayed maturity, burst into their own distinctive patterns of bloom.

Regulars among the readership of AR have available a treat in her collection of poems in the Poets section. While you're online, turn to that page and look for the poem called "Hallelujah!" It's the beating heart of this collection. An extra bonus is the gorgeous painting on the cover. Visit Ande's web page http://www.poetrywriter.com/ for a photo and ordering information.

Not all these poems are easy. The ones that are easy slide sneakily into your memory banks, make you want to hug their author. Simple or complex, not a one is allowed to be called inaccessible. Beginning with the first section, "Aristotle's Lantern," the poems spring lightly from the page like early mushrooms in a dark forest glade — simple, lyrical, personal, and as the book continues, deepen in both topic and structure until with the ending section, "The Body, Reassembled," readers are confronted with questions few would dare to ask. For their answers, some digging tools, both intellectual and metaphysical, might be in order.

Immerse yourself in this deep emotional, even spiritual, lushness and listen to the whoosh and clang of language in these poems. If you find one difficult, read it five times. If you're not willing to read it five times, you don't deserve these poems. Just go home.