Poems from a retirement village: Helen Jacobs
Today I read this book in the bath with coffee and calm. A Habit of Writing by Helen Jacobs, 91.
Saturday morning bath is a time to listen, dream or read in morning sunshine. Today I was reading with pleasure Helen Jacobs’ seventh collection of poems, A Habit of Writing (Cuba Press).
Helen Jacobs is a veteran poet in two ways. First, she’s been publishing since 1984, so she does have a habit of writing. Projecting, I imagine that by now she can’t help writing, it’s in her bones and daily life.
Second, Helen is a veteran human: she is 91 and writing her poems from a retirement village in Christchurch. Given my fascination with the aging process, I’m naturally enthralled by poems that reflect life from her point of view.
The first two poems complete each other. She had me on page one, with the poem “Dance”. This one went boom! ting! and whoosh! with me, an avid amateur dancer in my 80s. In ten simple lines the poet has crammed joyous memories of moving freely and the poignancy of being relegated to observer status. (But what an acute observer!)
Dance, one of Helen Jacobs’ poems from a retirement village. Scroll or waltz down for the text.
“Dance” is sobering, but the next poem is “Flying”— and away she soars on a journey of the mind. Prompted by a word. Words are very good things. Writing liberates the writer, reading liberates the reader, reading and writing can give your walker wings. That’s why these poems from a retirement village pack a punch.
I totally recommend this book.
- You can buy A Habit of Writing from the publisher or any bookstore in New Zealand
- You can also buy my book, How To Be Old, now that it’s been reprinted (again)
Two poems by Helen Jacobs
Dance
My eyes say, ‘Dance to the world,
the world where the cranes dip and bow,
the world where the diggers drum
and the sun plays timpani to the cloud.’
And ever the hills call, ‘Run,
come to the tops,’
and ever the wind cries,
‘Ride my trapeze,’
and ever the rivers beckon with their flow,
and ever I sit in the stalls.
(c) Helen Jacobs
Flying
I am being ordinary
and flying on a word
as the mist of the morning
unfolds.
I am being ordinary
in a community
where all are old and ordinary
and I am flying on a word
to meet the sun.
(c) Helen Jacobs
Fantastic! Thanks so much for sharing this.
So glad you enjoyed the poems.
I love Helen’s poems Rachel. Thanks for introducing me to her habit of writing. While she may sit in the stalls, her imagination takes flight with her words.
Her poems are encouraging to me and again show that the inner life in old age is paramount.
Lovely combination of longing and satisfaction both present around dancing.