Quicksilver of the Heart
Invite these poems to companion your heart and let them stretch your soul. Brendas spare, simple words say big things. In this very intimate collection we are offered messages of lifes mysteries in a language as clear as any fine spiritual direction. Throbbing through the poems is her Celtic sensibility, offered in the calm dialect of a sagacious heart bred to thrive in Newfoundland weather. Taken as talismans of transformation, these poems beg rereading, like stories retold over strong tea to take off the chill and to strengthen the heart. We are whispered secret courage to engage life, open-eyed and ready. The stanzas give voice to the quiet satisfactions of honest, open-hearted awareness and offer a travelers guide into a soulscape both delicate and wild. From a knowing of winters graced grit to the full out exhilaration of the greening again spring, Brenda opens to us the experience of a woman stepping into elder-hood well versed in living close to the heart of things. Look, she says to us, despite any initial evidence to the contrary, small moments are thresholds into soul size transformations and no less than lifes best gift. (Gabriele Uhlein OSF, author and artist, Meditations with Hildegard of Bingen)
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Algonquin Highlands black leaf blind blood body knows breath Brenda Peddigrew can’t certainty child Christmas Chroi Baile cloven hoof color Communitas cougar dancing dark path day after day day unfolds deep dying earth edge everything eyes glow green shoot hidden hold hum and wait illusion inside isn’t leaves life’s lilac tree living longing for letters look Lupin Light morning Mother’s arms night sky nudge ocean of light Peace pillar of salt poems of transformation possibility presence pulled quicksilver heart radiance rain real world rising and falling Rumi Shadow shedding shift shimmering shine shoveling silent sisters gather skin slow snow light snowdrop soil sometimes soul SoulWinds spring standing stars Storm’s Heart stream summer sun’s surprise surrender thermometer things thought tincture tracking light truth turning voice walking wasn’t White Woods wind Wind’s window winter Woods in April word longing word waiting wordless world opened year’s