THROUGH
MOUNTAIN MISTS
Early Settlers of
Their
Descendants...Their Stories...Their Achievements
Lifting the
Mists of History on Their Way of Life
By: Ethelene Dyer Jones
In April,
National Poetry Month: Featuring Local Poet, Barbara Ruth Sampson
As
we celebrate during April the art of poetry, a local contemporary
She is Barbara Ruth Nicholson
(Collins) Sampson who lives on
Spring
in the mountains,
but
you are not here.
Yet,
somehow, my eager eyes discern you
faintly
profiled against darkening clouds,
hear
your voice echoing in sky-shattering thunder
above
the splintered silver waterfalls,
feel
you in the profound absence of footsteps
along
the leaf-padded trail bordering
the
lavishly blossoming rhododendron thicket.
I
sense you in the profound grandeur
of
this unpeopled wildness,
relax
with utter satisfaction in this spot
exclusive
to lichen on boulders,
protective
moss on northside of trees,
and
the drama of an eagle launching himself
into
vastness of sky above rugged mountains.
You are here in this
that
prohibits raucous, man-made noises
within
its sacred solitude,
and
comes your voice to my depth of yearning
a
luminescence of all past glory.
The
cadence of your robust laughter,
profound
and sincere, makes me smile,
my
heart to sing.
So
good there is nothing to intrude,
here
in the mountains of spring,
with
you.
Who is this
wordsmith, this maker of verse? Would you
believe she has already celebrated
her four-score and tenth birthday?
Spending most of her time now in a wheelchair, she is not bound
by its
physical limitations but allows her mind to soar, to grasp ideas that
challenge
and cajole, words that send imagination on flights of beauty to climb
to
heights of solitude, where there is “nothing to intrude” save for the
very
pleasure of writing.
This retired educator—high school
English teacher for many years---is herself a daughter of educators: Dr. James M. Nicholson was her father,
inimitable principal of Union County High School from about 1930 until
his
retirement in the mid-1940’s. Her mother
was Flora Maynard Nicholson, also an English teacher.
She grew up with siblings James Frank, George
Truett and Flora Nelle. Her sister,
called Nelle, is also a word-crafter and a poet. Barbara
Ruth proudly traces her ancestry back
to her great, great grandfather John Nicholson, a Revolutionary War
soldier
whose grave is in the
Barbara Ruth Sampson and I have been
pen pals for many years. Her letters are
literary gems, delightful to read and saved among my treasures. It was my distinct pleasure, as a fellow
member with her of the Georgia Poetry Society, to review her book of
poems
published in 2000 by Sparrowgrass Press,
She and
Like Reece,
she is adept at the quatrain. Her “On
Planting a Crocus Bulb” states a
tremendous amount of truth in four lines:
“I planted a crocus bulb
today/under the leaves, under the clay;/ I planted a bit of purple
hope/in a
chilly wind, on a barren slope.”
In “Mortality” she
feels and touches the splendor of earth and leads the reader to explore
our own
time and space in the world. The
questions posed in the poem lead the reader to contemplate answers:
Why
has pulsing spring so early come to earth
in this the growing winter of my
days;
what primal instinct stirs less
certain
steps
to seek among more rough and
youthful ways?
Now surely should I pull the
fleecy shawl
around the shivering bones of
age,
nor face the freshened breeze
that
challenges
beyond the spirit now grown pale
and sage.
What is this pang within my very
core
that makes me laugh yet wish to
cry,
envisioning all that will come
more
when empty of the world am I?
In
reading her book, “Earth
Is a Splendid Place”, one identifies with her love for natural
beauty and
her zest for life. Though age, an
expected part of life, rolls upon us with the passing years, she
encourages our
welcoming the seasons as friends and the accrual of years as a blessing. During this month for poetry and poets, her
poetic philosopy is well-expressed in another quatrain that gives her
book its
title:
High
the sky to the edge of heaven,
bright
the sun as a smiling face;
life
is a treasured blessing given,
and
earth is a splendid place.”
Updated August 29,
2009
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