An Earth Full of Gratitude:
A Collection of Poems
by Ranjith Sivarman
64 Poems ~ 28 B/W Drawings ~ 72 Pages
Price: $11.00
Publisher: Resource Publications
An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers
ISBN #: 979-8-3852-7435-2 Paperback
979-8-3852-7436-9 Hardcover
979-8-3852-7437-6 Ebook
To Order: www.wipfandstock.com
Reviewed by Michael Escoubas
As I worked my way through Ranjith Sivaraman’s debut collection, I recalled the words of Wallace Stevens, one of America’’s most enduring poets. Stevens personifies the earth in a poem entitled, “The Woman In Sunshine,“ (Collected Poems, page 445). Throughout his creative life, Stevens was grateful for the gift of beauty the earth bestowed. While I am not equating Sivaraman with any other poet, An Earth Full of Gratitude, personifies the world in unique and interesting ways. To begin with, the poet sets a dramatic tone with a George Orwell quatrain:
If you loved someone,
You loved him, and when you
Had nothing else to give,
You still gave him love.
I cite these lines because they form an anchor or core thought, a cornerstone, if you will, that sets the stage for the poet to put flesh on its bones. As K Genesis writes in her excellent introduction: “Reading An Earth Full of Gratitude, is like entering a soft dusk where moonlight and incense meet–an intimacy that wants to be felt before it is named.”
Putting Flesh on the Bones of Gratitude
Beginning with Sivaraman’s tone-setting title poem:
Cradled by these leaves
And those clouds
Smiling like a baby cutie
Our love skies a moon mint.
Darling dew carries the moon and stars
Of each night in a smile and gifts me,
While sunshine wakes me up from your hug.
Hidden from leaves, clouds
Sunshine, Moon, stars
Flower and Thorns
I have a deep root of wisdom
And an earth full of gratitude,
To keep me going,
Wherever love carries me along.
What stands out to me in this poem is the poet’s use of personification. This significant and lovely poetic device weaves its way through the collection like a golden thread. For example, “One Day,” reminds me of my own youthful reticence in showing an interest in girls:
I may fall short of words one day,
My pen may start
laughing at me one day,
This Pride and Coldness may
Have the last laugh one day.
Even then my beloved,
my head will be
Held high in our love,
that made you my poetry …
The favorable transformations of seasons are not lost in Sivaraman’s love affair with the world. “Darling Autumn,” is an example:
Darling Autumn came peeping
from the sky and stood smiling
I smiled back with eyes covering
And kept my lonely bench hiding
And walked back to our love, sighing
Before I could see a single leaf falling …
Several poems end with an ellipsis. This is a bit unusual. However, I see this as intentional by the poet. There is always something more to say to and about those special people who are the objects of our love. The ellipsis lengthens and extends one’s touch.
Speaking of seasons, I was captivated by “If Love is Season Forever”:
If love is a season forever
May it be Autumn,
Each day be a leaf,
And hugging each other
Let’s see it fall in its yellow
And smile in a pale sorrow,
And remind us to be together more
Kiss more and love a little more.
My captivation touches on autumn as my favorite season. It is as if the world is dressed in the very colors of the earth itself. Nuanced shades of yellows, half-greens, orange tinctures, here and there speckled purple leaves add variety to the scene.
Clearly, the poet loves the planet and experiences the planet’s return of love. For Sivaraman, the world itself is humanity. He relishes the walk of the moon on a starlit night, the sultry mystery of July summer days when the world emits its perfume as he walks among peach trees in the meadow. Little wonder that the poet overflows with the earth in a mutual relationship of shared gratitude.
“In the End,” is a lovely summary of their shared relationship:
‘In the End,
we all become stories,’ they say
.
But lucky are, they,
Who become poetry.
‘In the End,
we are all alone’ they say,
But lucky are they,
Who have someone
To be lonely with.
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