Jim’s Barn Tryptich, Center Panel, Pastel, by John Cummings
Hands to Work, Hearts to God
Sister Sarah, feed the hens
slop the hogs, milk the cows
churn the butter, wash the eggs
grind the corn, bake the pone
Sister Jane, make the biscuits
bring the butter, dole the jam
skim the cream, boil the coffee
fry the bacon, call the brothers
Sister Ann, wash the platters
stack the dishes, wipe the forks
stoke the fire, draw the water
boil the brine, whet the knives
kill the cockerel, drain and pluck
scald and dry, flour and fry
Sister Daphna, bring the wash
boil the lye, heat the irons
set the starch, bleach the caps
mend the rips, fold the cuffs
Sister Liza, tend the garden,
plant the beans, pick the greens
hoe the corn, pick the bugs
plant the parsnips, pull the weeds
Sister Ann, nurse the sick
turn the bedfast, cleanse the pots
make the poultice, lance the boil
stitch the wound, wash the dead
Sister Patsy, lead the meeting
utter and sing, shake and dance
Brother Anthony, split the wood
gather the kindling, lay the fire
sharpen the axe, whet the saw
saw the logs, stack the wood
Brother Isaac, muck the stable
feed the grain, fork the hay
oil the harness, grease the plow
fire the forge, shoe the hooves
float the teeth, worm the colts,
twitch the stallion, breed the mares
Brother David, bust the sods
plant the barley, drill the wheat
cut the hay, stack the sheaves
mill the flour, make the feed
Brother Daniel, lime the soil
plant potatoes, dig potatoes
dig the cellar, fill the cellar
hill the beans, save the seed
Brother Frederick, tend the bull
breed the heifers, geld the steers
pasture the gilts, breed the sows,
butcher the barrows, dress the meat
Brother Jonah, carry the hod
carry the shingles, carry the stone
lift the cornice, shoulder the beam
load up the wagon, hitch up the team
Brother Daniel dig the grave
join the casket, hew the stone
Brother John, preach the gospel,
hands to rest, hearts to God
______________
Cedar Koons
Review by Jared Pearce
I think list-style poems have to taken with caution, and I think this poem handles the lists of duties and work very nicely. When I visit places that tell me about past-times, I’m often awed at the work, the amount of energy and effort that went into living. I think this poem is able to offer the work without burdening the reader, just allowing the reader to admire the workers.
Review by Nancy Christopherson
The rhythm and rhyme in this poem are absolutely delightful, so cleverly and smoothly incorporated, that the reader barely notices the intentional poetic device. Whether imagined or real in this piece, the names are a musical gift in and of themselves. Akin to a list poem, well, ha! it is a list poem, this piece is fascinating to read. Pure tribute to the community of individuals as well as to their contributions. Pure insight into a shared way of life, a close, allied communal living at its most vigorous, where everyone has a specific set of skills, and each carries out his or her duties for the benefit of all. Each set of details is brilliantly laid out in image, action, rhythm and rhyme. Brava to the poet for such clear and patient observation, such deft description in vivid detail.
Review by Massimo Fantuzzi
An almost mechanical, blind and blinding exercise that soothes and dims the lightning storms of the mind. The end of all our troubles. Each individual operates according to their ability, gender, disposition and colony’s need. All but fitting cogs of an eternal machine that moves in communion with seasons and weather. A superorganism that listens and functions in conformity with its ecosystem, without trying to overpower it or place it under its control, where the common good informs and fulfills the doings of all its parts. This poem has the alluring power of a mantra, the fifteen-hundred-years-old beautiful simplicity of the Rule of Saint Benedict, Ora et Labora.
Review by J. S. Absher
I find deeply fascinating the work described in this poem and how it is organized in the community and in the poem. The work of seven sisters is described in 14 couplets; the work of eight brothers in 15 couplets. The poem is a long list of directions in the imperative mood, perhaps by the leader of the community, perhaps by a handbook like the Benedictine rule, cataloging the work needed for a community to survive—planting and harvesting, breeding and butchering and cooking, nursing the sick and burying the dead. The omissions are interesting: there is no mention of human birth or midwifery, suggesting that no one is born into the community but everyone enters as an adult.
It is a simple but rigorous life focused on God: the 14th couplet describes the meetings led by Sister Patsy where members “utter and sing, shake and dance”; the extra couplet at the end describes the work of the eighth brother, John, who is instructed to “preach the gospel, / hands to rest, hearts to God.” Another omission: survival of the community depends on attracting new members, but no mention is made of proselytizing; perhaps people come one by one as they are attracted to the way of being the community embodies.
This is a lovely poem, evoking the farm and household work I’ve done or seen done or heard about from my parents’ generation.