PA RTI SAN REV IEW
157
Over the maize fi"elds
--
is
ours to try, since we believe in magic,
Believe we can climb to it slowly, being frightened,
That it can break suddenly out of stone or out of the dry air.
As priest and priestess of ourselves, before praying for rain,
We weep to show it how.
Like so many of Wagoner's poems, "The Makers of Rain" is "a momen–
tary stay against confusion." Precariously perched midway between
heaven and earth with an inevitable descent lurking past the poem's
ending, the two companions offer a gesture of acquiescence and propitia–
tion to a chastening nature: it is their acceptance of powerlessness which
renders them for the moment powerful, free . Here you have an essential
Wagoner poem, as well as a proof that Wagoner is himself a magician, a
"maker of rain," a poet of renewal. To say that his large ambitions
sometimes fail is merely to say what everyone knows: good poets don't
always write good poems. To say that they often succeed is to say that in
his wit and intelligence, his sympathy and craft, he is one of the best
poets of his generation.
(If
you're new to his poetry, I suggest you pick up the
New and
Selected Poems,
chosen by himself.)
Alan Helms
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