This poem, my 17th hybridanelle, was requested by a member of the poetry community I participate at, Suzanne Smee, who lost her 16 year old daughter to suicide October of last year. When she read my last hybridanelle project poem, “Unbounded“, she asked me if I would write a poem in memory of her daughter. I was thinking about writing something inspired by the circumstances of her daughter’s suicide at some point, but this would have been in my own time and not written as a memorial poem—Just in reflection of the circumstances that I was aware of without having to pry.
As a request, this changed. I told her I would only be able to fill her request if she would be willing to answer any questions I had about her daughter’s life and the weeks, days, and hours just prior to her passing. This may seem harsh, but it really is the only way I could do the poem justice. It must be understood that although 95% of what I learned has not been used in the poem’s content itself, 100% of it has influenced the poem’s outcome. If any piece of information I had was missing, this would be an entirely different piece of writing.
The Dimming
for Suzanne Smee
in memory of her daughter Nicole (Nikki) Vance
(March 1989 – October 2005)
Clear waters meditate on hidden sounds;
a silver sickle sinks into the twilight
as fallen leaves are scattered by the wind;
bright eyes search the heavens for distant hints of hope;
bare feet wade through shallow waves in silence
where oaks and tamaracks extend their fading hues.
Whispered prayers rustle unseen boughs
like spirits moved to trembling in the darkness;
clear waters meditate on hidden sounds,
the rise and fall of cricket-song crescendos,
the muffled sobs of anguish, alone and undiscerned;
bare feet wade through shallow waves in silence.
A sort of vision quest for understanding
unfolds between a chapel and the night
as fallen leaves are scattered by the wind
and falling stars leave traces of promise in the skies,
now powerless to dissipate confusion—
the muffled sobs of anguish, alone and undiscerned.
Dawn breaks pale on Erie’s inland sea;
the great blue heron lifts to meet the half-light;
clear waters meditate on hidden sounds,
a rapid ringing tap that echoes clearly,
the rosy call of grosbeaks sifting through the woods,
now powerless to dissipate confusion.
A troubled psyche left our world to wander
among those planes that phase amid the shade;
as fallen leaves are scattered by the wind,
gentle spirits join to keep a subtle wake—
the Chagrin River shares a song of mourning,
the rosy call of grosbeaks sifting through the woods.
Colors pale before the nearing winter;
a phantom half acknowledged walks the shadows;
clear waters meditate on hidden sounds
as fallen leaves are scattered by the wind;
yet still within the dream-space of the living
bright eyes search the heavens for distant hints of hope;
the Chagrin River shares a song of mourning
where oaks and tamaracks extend their fading hues.
There are a lot of allusive references in here that are particular to Nikki’s life and the circumstances leading up to her suicide, but I’ll point out just a few of them.
“Clear water” is what an old Amerindian word, “Shagrin”, means. The Chagrin River is actually a mis-transliteration of the original name of the river. Nikki would visit the Chagrin River when she needed time to herself to think and reflect. When she did this she would walk barefoot in the river. I understand she even did this at night, including the night before her passing. Hence the night imagery throughout the first part of the poem.
In Nikki’s notes found by the reviewing officer, she made heavy mention of the shallowness of our society. This was really bothering her. And this is part of the reason I chose the wording “wade through shallow waves” in one of the refrains.
I feel that Nikki had an animistic relationship with the Chagrin River itself, at the very least through spiritual blindsight. Much of the imagery used in this poem attempts to reflect this relationship.
Suzanne used to take Nikki to watch a great blue heron fish in a pond near where they live off the shores of Lake Erie, near the Chagrin River. The “rappid ringing taps” refers to the piliated woodpecker. It’s tough to use designations like “piliated woodpecker” in a poem like this without compromising the mood and impact of the poem, and this is why I chose an image reference rather than a proper designation. Nikki seemed to have some connection with this bird, as one would only come round to visit her grandfather’s home and feed from the bird feeder when she was visiting.
Last but not least, she once had a red-breasted grosbeak land on her hand as she was feeding chickadees by her home. I once had a wild sparrow fly out of a tree and land on my shoulder. It actually stayed there as I turned my head to look at it, cocking its head at me and flittering its feathers a bit before going back into the tree. That was an experience I have never forgotten, and I still feel very special for some reason when I reflect on it. And so I know that Nikki’s experience with the grosbeak had special meaning to her, hence the “rosy call of grosbeaks” being included as part of the animistic mourning process reflected in the poem.
Before starting the poem, I made an attempt to deepen my understanding of some concepts in Chinese cosmology around the nature of being because I don’t know of any way for suicides to have a chance at freedom or release in the dogmas of Western religion or spirituality. I did leave a way in the close of this poem for Nikki’s ghost (gui in Chinese cosmology) to hope for that release and clarity based on what I’ve learned and come to understand. I know I have much more to learn in this area, and I plan to continue working at deepening my understanding in relation.
There’s more, in fact each and every word and phrase in this poem has arisen from my investigation into and meditations on Nikki’s life and death along with connecting subjects. Writing this also caused me to reflect a great deal on my father’s suicide and the possibility of his eventual release from gui state.
