Into My Garden, Poems by David Caplan

As if New Jersey were Babylon, an Argentine
and an Israeli argue in Aramaic, Styrofoam cups
of instant coffee warm in their hands.

https://www.benyehudapress.com/books/into-my-garden/

#poetry #nationalpoetrymonth

In All Things Thee to See: A Poetry Book Review

It seems appropriate to match the opportunity to review a book of poetry to the month of April, as we celebrate National Poetry Month. But to give attention to the collection I am sharing and the man behind in this review seems a worthy endeavor for me in my Christian journey for both my spiritual and writing life- which are intertwined.

Today I am reviewing a book titled: All Things Thee to See: A Devotional Guide to Selected Poems of George Herbert with Selections and Reflections by Stephen Witmer. Additionally, I want to include my own thoughts on how Christians could enrich their intimacy with Christ by reading and reflecting the writing of devotional poets such as George Herbert. I promise to not get preachy. Anymore. Said while smiling.

First of all a little about this poet – in case he is new to you. George Herbert is new to me, though I am sure there are many who have heard of him or who have read his poetry. I recently attended a Christian writers’ gathering, and heard his name mentioned. It’s like once you decide on the car you want, or a color you love. It starts popping up everywhere. So a bit about George Hebert, is that he lived during the 17th century (1593–1633). This was a tumultuous time in history at best. He was born into a well-to-do family in England and was well educated, had some political ambition initially but became disenchanted early on with that direction and came to focus and rest in his service to the church as priest/pastor. His life was a brief one, and he suffered poor health most of it. He died at forty years of age, but what he left for us is a rich heritage of poems that have been sung, studied and shared since his death by Tuberculosis in 1633. You can read about him in greater detail in the excellent introduction by author, Stephen Witmer.

The Book

This beautiful, bound book is the perfect accompaniment to a quiet time of reflective reading and includes forty of Herbert’s poems. As I researched the poet, I found myself more and more drawn in to the way his works have been used for worship, and also for schooling the believer into the real life workings of a faith-filled life.

The book’s format is perfect for students of scripture, literature, and especially those who find poetry difficult to read or understand. Each of the forty poems has alongside it, a teacher worthy to the task of helping to bring forth the sweet nectar of these poetic offerings. You have with each poem, a tutor to guide you into the fullness of what is being communicated.

Some of the poem titles included in this collection are: The Alter, Affliction, Joseph’s Coat, Matins, Prayer, Mortification, A True Hymn, and The Dawning. Each was written as a personal way of communicating, and talking with God or expressing aspects of faith and struggles in the spiritual life.

The Savoring the Poem section is the place where we are ushered into understanding the places that we might get stuck. Witmer excels in this and I found often after reading his bit of “tutoring” I would re-read the poem with more confidence. He doesn’t overreach here, but gives help in what seems to me is just enough. Each time I found myself thankful to be able to “savor the poem” as intended because I had just the right amount of help – as one walking alongside, discussing with me as I read without pushing. I’m sure this has been instrumental in my ability to appreciate the pure beauty and service of George Herbert’s offerings.

In addition to the brief but rich Savoring the Poem section, there is a Shepherded by the Poem portion. As a pastor himself Witmer guides the reader with reflective questions to bring them into the place of receiving the most out of the words as possible. He helps us see what we don’t want to miss. I find his approach here again, encouraging. He challenges us to not settle for the superficial but see fully the author’s intent, humor, and humanity. He wants us to get the most of the poetry set forth by Herbert.

One thing that was helpful for me in addition to the reading of the chosen poems here by Witmer, was hearing the poems read and sung aloud! An internet search allowed me to experience hearing the words read by those who have an appreciation for the Herbert’s poems. One was Malcolm Guite (I really enjoyed it).

This book features at the back three indexes for notes, persons (mentioned in the individual poems), and scripture references.

It is interesting to note that he wrote the poems during his lifetime completely for his private devotional life. His poems were published posthumously. This is also a fascinating aspect of his short life! That so many of these private, intimate writings born in a devotion to God personally now are public in service to the church, and to many others.

This book would be a great gift for pastor appreciation anytime of the year. It also would be good for graduation, and for any other spiritual milestone. It is one to keep with your Bible and journal for enriching personal devotional time.

You can see and read the first chapter of this book at Crossway linked here: Check out the book!

I want to share a link for another historical background on George Herbert at the Poetry Foundation to learn more: George Herbert at PF.

Thank you to Crossway for sending me this book to review, and also to Stephen Witmer who has set me sailing on my journey with a wonderful new poetry teacher and guide in George Herbert.

Thank you also to my faithful readers for showing up and reading my words. As always I appreciate you for taking the time!

Enthusiastically, Dawn

"That door has been banging
all our lives against its frame, in wind
so hard and soft at times it echoes
our first birth, that furious push

only need or love can deliver."

#TodaysPoem #poetry #NationalPoetryMonth @poetry
Poem at the Closing of a Door by Lisa Martin from Nighthawks (2026 University of Alberta Press) https://ualbertapress.ca/9781772128550/nighthawks/

In April

April is National Poetry Month. It is a time set aside to read poetry, to hear it, and to speak it aloud. Not to analyze it too quickly, but to let it move as it was meant to move through voice, through rhythm, through the quiet spaces between words.

Spring brings with it a natural turning toward poetry. The light changes, the air softens, and language seems to follow. This April, I return to Rainer Maria Rilke and his poem, “In April”.

https://youtu.be/Lysu57MuRug?si=3qrRY_VNihv1lNtk

In April

by Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

Again the woods are odorous, the lark
Lifts on upsoaring wings the heaven gray
That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark,
Where branches bare disclosed the empty day.

After long rainy afternoons an hour
Comes with its shafts of golden light and flings
Them at the windows in a radiant shower,
And rain drops beat the panes like timorous wings.

Then all is still. The stones are crooned to sleep
By the soft sound of rain that slowly dies;
And cradled in the branches, hidden deep
In each bright bud, a slumbering silence lies.

Kergord Woods in April

Amidst the wild and deeply indented coasts of the Shetland Islands, with their enclosed, steep hills and shifting skies, there stands a solitary forest. Kergord Woods is the only substantial woodland in the islands. Planted between 1909 and 1921, the trees have endured harsh winters and persistent winds, yet they thrive offering shelter to birds and a place of quiet gathering within an otherwise open landscape.

During my first visit to Shetland in 2018, I walked through these woods. There is something about Kergord that feels deeply aligned with Rilke’s poem. The air carries the scent of damp earth and awakening growth. Rain lingers, not as storm, but as presence soft against branches and leaves. Light arrives in brief, golden intervals, filtering through the trees before retreating again.

It is a place of transition. Not fully winter, not yet spring but held in that delicate in-between. And in that space, Rilke’s words seem not only descriptive, but present. The “odorous woods”, the rain against the panes, the hush that follows. All of it can be felt here.

Since that first walk, this poem returned to me each April, carried on the same quiet awakening that stirs in the trees. Poetry does not belong to a single moment. It returns. In seasons. In memory. In places that hold something we cannot quite name. We do not always go looking for it. Sometimes, it finds its way back to us as April returns, as the woods awaken, as a poem waits quietly to be spoken once more.

Until the next poem,

Rebecca

The Sabbath Bee, Prose Poems for the Seventh Day by Wilhelmina Gottschalk

https://www.benyehudapress.com/books/the-sabbath-bee/

#poetry #nationalpoetrymonth

An Added Soul, Poems for a New Old Religion (bilingual English/Hebrew edition) by Herbert J. Levine

“There’s much to atone for in how I manage my world:
The absence of a god is no excuse.”

https://www.benyehudapress.com/books/an-added-soul/

#poetry #nationalpoetrymonth

"So if, my dear, there sometimes seem to be
Old bridges breaking between you and me

Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall
Confident that we have built our wall."

#TodaysPoem #poetry #NationalPoetryMonth @poetry
Scaffolding by Seamus Heaney from Opened Ground: Selected Poems 1966–1996 (1998 @fsgbooks) https://poets.org/poem/scaffolding

King of the Jews by Matthew Lippman
National Jewish Book Awards Shortlist

https://www.benyehudapress.com/books/king-of-the-jews/

#poetry #nationalpoetrymonth

When You Kill A Spider In Your Daughter’s Room at Eleven PM

“Mom- there’s a bug!” startles you from your slumber.
So, you stumble out the bed, onto your feet, and make your way to the kitchen first, to get your weapon because toilet paper will not do-the guilt seeps through the thin plies of tissue.

Still squinting, you walk resolutely down the hall to her room.
She points to the corner wall as you fumble for more light and notice
the “bug ” is a spider and you see its size, color, shape, and that its legsare long but it’s not a Daddy-Longlegs, and it’s just sitting there

on the wall…in her room, and you, too sleepy to do the catch and release reserved for daytime spiders, apologize for your murderous action as you push the thicker-picker-upper paper towel against the wall where the intruder crouches

and you feel everything is wrong, somehow in the killing of an
innocent, sitting spider, at eleven o clock at night, because
everyone knows, “Thou Shalt Not Kill”, and the words rise within,
like an arachnid ghost hovering, reminding you of words
that spiders don’t know and certainly don’t live by.

Besides, spiders are the good guys, you think to yourself,
then it occurs to you that good guys die, too…
and injustice finds its way into the hearts of everyone.

So, you squeeze that paper towel tight making sure all life is
rushed from within- and every innocent rises in your consciousness,
visions of concentration camps, mothers’ wombs,
and the memory from the news of one nine-year-old girl
shot dead while doing homework on her mamma’s bed after school.

And you think how nothing is fair and life is a game of chess
for some, but some are like the spider on the wall
in your daughter’s room at eleven PM.

###

Some of you who have followed my writing may recall this poem. This poem is one I continue to revise. It’s one of my favorite poems that I have penned though somewhat “clunky”. Maybe because it was so vivid as I wrote, and it was still a time when my daughter was alive. It was written in 2015 and published in a local anthology, I shared it also on this blog in 2023. You can find it here: 3rd Annual Anthology

I think poetry is such a powerful memory keeper. If you can capture the essence of a moment in verse you keep it forever.

Keep remembering. Keep writing.

Enthusiastically, Dawn

#nationalpoetrymonth

"She tore down the last fence by the marsh. Jane d’Eau is a marvel of catastrophe, trophe by trophe, cat
by cat; she doesn’t mind if you fish, but you better know when to swim for it."

#TodaysPoem #poetry #NationalPoetryMonth @poetry
Jane d’Eau by Tanis MacDonald, forthcoming in Tall, Grass, Girl (2026 Bookhug Press) https://poets.ca/jane-deau-by-tanis-macdonald/